Luke Castellan and the Garden of the Hesperides
by YourOverlord
Summary: A short story following the ill-fated first and only quest of Luke Castellan.
1. I Lose a Food Fight

So, I'm back again.

I know it's been ages since the last entry, but I'm still not ready to write about anything after the cyclops. I've tried a couple of times, but every time I try to organize my thoughts on it - you know: what happened, what order, that kind of thing - I just can't make myself sit still long enough to write about it. I want to scream, I want to go challenge every monster and god out there, I'll even admit I want to cry, I guess. I really don't have the right to do any of that. Mostly I end up just throwing the book a few times, leaving and training on some practice dummies and

Right. Subject change or I'm not going to make it through this either: I made it to Camp Half-Blood. It's actually been two years... almost three.

Wow. So! That makes me feel kind of guilty, actually. It's been _two years_ since I've written here. Well, I did warn you that I might not be able to keep up with it. I probably shouldn't even be writing now, but I think I've got to get this out or I am seriously going to explode. I really can't talk to anyone, so here's hoping there's enough pages left.

Okay. 42 pages. I'll write small.

The best place to start would probably be to talk a bit about Camp. As much as my previous entries had a lot of doubt about Grover, the satyr was right. Camp Half-Blood _is_ a place of safety. Half-bloods can get in, monsters can't. Half-blood's can't get out without permission.. and if you are a normal half-blood with a home to go to, after the summer of training and camaraderie ends, you can opt to leave for a while. Pretty much everyone leaves for the rest of the year.

Annabeth, myself, and a new girl a satyr brought in a few months ago are not allowed to leave at all. We're called year-rounders. That means that due to how powerful we are, supposedly, we smell like a free buffet to every monster for miles and they will drop all of their nefarious deeds to make our lives a little more exciting. Given, well, my whole life before getting here, I can't exactly argue about that, but it does drive me crazy sometimes.

So for us, the only way to get out at all is to undertake quests for the gods. The way that works is that the gods will get into arguments, or I don't know, make bets. I've heard that sometimes they'll even get into trouble and ask for help, but I've never seen it. Anyway, when that happens, they call for a quest, and some demigod has to take it up and sort things out before all these really overpowered gods end up fighting each other and take out Cleveland and half of Ohio or something.

I know. "Luke," you might be saying, "Who cares? It's Cleveland." I know. _I've been there._ But we're still supposed to prevent that sort of thing.

This summer, just two weeks before it ended, Mr. D - That's Dionysus ... yeah, we've got a god here year round. It's great let me tell you. It's like the gods are trying to figure out ways to make me hate _any_ of them more than my father. Anyways, Mr. D makes an announcement at dinner that my old deadbeat, Hermes, had called a quest.

"Apparently, Hermes hasn't gotten enough dealing with apples and wants another one." Mr. D rolled his eyes and took another drink of soda from his goblet. He'd messed up and played around with some off limits nymph so Zeus decided to punish us - and him - by drying him out at Camp. The god of wine is currently perpetually sober. He can't drink. He can't leave. He hates us. Life is grand.

Everyone is pretty used to him though. No one is really paying any of his grumbling any mind, and ... I'd be lying if my father's name didn't make me lift my head, even if it was with a scowl. I totally expected this to go to another cabin.

"Luck Catstealing." Mr. D called out.

Irritation was the only thing that saved me from being completely stupid with surprise.

"Luke. Castellan." I corrected him through grit teeth. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I punched a god. Probably turned into a lizard and thrown into an old cat lady's house. He's never gotten my name right even once in almost three years.

"Whatever. Stand up."

I stand up, and my table... my half-siblings, son and daughters of Hermes, and any number of other kids - unclaimed by their godly parents or in some cases, claimed but just not important enough to be one of the big 12 gods... well, they started cheering and whistling. One of the guys slapped me on the back, making me stagger a bit. We're _pretty_ sure Mitch is one of Hephaestus' kids, so the friendly pat was a bit like getting hit by a speeding truck. Still, I couldn't help but smile a bit. Okay, so I was grinning like an idiot.

"You've been requested per-son-al-ly. Talk with Chiron after dinner." He takes another huge gulp of soda, snorts irritably and throws himself childishly back into his chair. He ends with his traditional blessing: "Don't screw it up."

For a moment, the whole dining area was silent and I looked around at all the different cabins. My own siblings were about to explode with pride. As far as anyone has known, the Hermes' cabin hadn't been tapped for a quest in the last couple decades. They all looked like we were about to pull of the greatest prank the world had ever seen.

I glanced out further around me. Faces looked back, filled with awe and envy, and in some cases, a little fear. Some of the Ares' kids glowered back with open aggression. Whatever. They got a lot of quests.

Finally, I glanced over at Athena's table, and met Annabeth's eyes. She was looking at me like I was a Hero. Capital H. And right then, I really felt like I was.

I also felt the fork full of mashed potatoes coming from the Apollo table as it was incoming towards my face. Naturally, I dodged like the pro I am. You might think I'd get mad, but I wasn't. We have a great rivalry with the cabin. Instead .. man, if I'd grinned any wider I think my face would break.

Casually, I picked up a honeyed yam, tossed it once in the air and lobbed it back at them without even picking a target. Michael dodged and it hit one of the girls at Aphrodite's table on the shoulder, splattering all over her new Alexander McQueen camisole and she shrieked with outrage and the war was on.

Food was everywhere, flying like all Hades had broken loose.

The Ares table made a catapult with a whole roast and one of the benches. Not to be outdone, I think Hephaestus' cabin had something with actual reload and sighting by the time all was said and done.

I was covered from head to toe, being the common 'enemy' of the evening, even I could only dodge so much. I probably laughed until tears were in the corners of my eyes and stitches in my side.

Every quest had it's own kind of send off and I'd seen a lot of them by then... Athena's were quiet and reverential, already talking about research and plans. Ares was like a soldier accepting a mission. There was exuberance, shouting, and stomping, but the acknowledgement that this may be the last they see of each other. Apollo tended to be bright smiles and really premature composition of the epic about to begin. This? This was stupid. It was inappropriate. It was everything it should be. Even when my cabin and the Apollo cabin were stuck in clean up, under threat of pain and harpies eating us alive, I felt pretty great.

 ***A/N So, first fic. I wanted to do something to bridge the gap between the very sympathetic, lighter voice of Luke we see in the Diary of Luke Castellan and the Luke we meet in the Lightning Thief. In that vein, I am trying to also keep with the tone of the series itself.**

 **Here goes!**


	2. I Give the Invisible Girl a Noogie

It was late - almost curfew - when I got to talk with Chiron.

He waited for me, patiently, outside of the tables and firelight.

"Luke." He said my name with a troubled, furrowed expression and I started to get serious. This was it. The celebration was over. The quest was starting now. "I fear this quest comes too early."

I felt the bottom of my stomach drop out. I wish I could describe what I felt right then. Anger? Fear? Disappointment? Maybe all of that and a bunch of other stuff. It had to have shown on my face, because he knelt, horse legs folding under him, and his hand gripped my shoulder warmly.

"Perhaps I speak incorrectly. You are, after all, the best swordsman I've trained in some long, long time." Maybe it was just kind words, but it cheered me up. Hey. I'm easy.

"You're worried." I pointed out, anyway.

"Indeed." Chiron exhaled, and then as if answering his own question, nodded to himself. "Luke, the quest you've been asked to undertake is no small affair. You cannot take this lightly."

"So," I steeled myself. "What is it?"

"You've been requested to fetch one of the Golden Apples from the garden of the Hesperides."

Somewhere off to the left and behind me, I heard a small gasp... By the flick of Chiron's eyes and a lash of his tail, I could tell he had too. Neither of us turned, though.

"One of the Labors of Hercules," I said. I couldn't tell if I felt awe or nervousness but I think both emotions tried to fight it out in my stomach. No small affair, he'd said. He wasn't kidding. We were talking about the hero of all heroes. The guy had done it all, the superstar of the ancient era, and even he hadn't managed to complete it without trickery.

I swallowed hard, and went to protest. "But-"

The centaur lifted a hand, asking for silence.

"Don't think his quest shall be yours. Challenges are what they are because they are a trial for the hero undertaking them." Chiron studied me carefully. "You will find yourself tested, Luke, and you must decide based on what's in your heart. If you stay true, you will not fail. Here." He took a box from one of his pockets. It started out the size of a dice, and seemed to expand as he pulled it free, until it was a rectangle bigger than my head. Magic is freaky. It never really stops weirding me out. "Your father wanted you to have this."

For a long moment, I didn't move. It was like there was a tornado in my ears, all noise and destruction.

My dad.

I hadn't talked to him since that day. I hadn't ever seen him before, and hadn't seen him after. I thought it would be better if I never, ever saw him again, too.

But here.. was a gift from him. Him personally. He wasn't here. But it was still SOMETHING. More than I'd ever gotten before.. and a quest. _I will see that you get a quest soon. You will get a chance to be a great hero before..._ The words echoed in my mind, threatening to sour everything before I'd even begun. I tried not to think about what _before_ was leading to.

I didn't know how to feel. Or, ... really, I guess I was feeling everything at once. I was getting buried under all of it. I don't know what I looked like, but it couldn't have been cool.

A little numb, I reached out and took the box. It was surprisingly light.

Chiron stood, his height towering over mine. "Come," he said. "You will need to consult the Oracle."

I looked down at the box in my clenched hands and then back up at him.

"Can... Can I have a minute?"

He glanced back to the shadows behind me, and if I didn't know any better I'd swear he smiled. "Certainly. Do not be long."

"I wont." I agreed, and watched him cantor towards the Big House. Once I felt that I was out of even the sharp hearing of a centaur, I raised my voice. "Annabeth."

I caught half of a curse, " _mmortales!_ " and couldn't help but smile. She strode out, chin lifted and expression defiant, just daring me to comment.

"Hey now. What's with the language?"

"You use worse," she pointed out. It wasn't so much of an accusation as it was a statement of fact with the way she said it.

"Who? Me?" I still reached over and ruffled her hair, and she squawked in protest. All pride and _I'M TOO BIG FOR THIS. UNHAND ME PATRONIZING KNAVE._ I did it every chance I could. "Couldn't be."

She squinted up at me. She'd grown a lot in the last year or so I realized right then. But she was still a munchkin. "You're covered in gravy." She accused.

I couldn't help but laugh. I rubbed at my face self consciously, but my hands were such a mess I'm sure it just made it worse. "And you are suspiciously clean."

She fidgeted. "It was _silly._ I was not going to join in something like that."

"That's a shame. We might have won with you guys on our side." It was cheap, but it worked. She turned red and looked at the ground, half abashed, and half totally full of pride. It took her off of offense and set her solidly into defense. With a normal nine year old, that'd be bullying. But this one? It's self defense of my pride. She's a quick one. You don't want to know how bad it can get. Those grey eyes see everything.

"At least you know that." She folded her arms over her chest, chin up. There's only a beat and I see her taking a deep breath. "You need to take me with you."

"Annabeth..."

"You need me!" she insisted. More than that, I knew she wanted to go for the sake of going. She wanted to get out. We've talked about it before. "This is a huge one! Nothing's ever been this big yet."

She was right. The sort of danger this one was... it wasn't to find Aphrodite's hairbrush, stop a rampaging automation, or take down a lizardman who offended Ares' name... This was the sort of quest that only happened in wars or as punishment. It was Great Quest material. And ... maybe I did need her, looking back. But I think, right then, I made the right choice. I couldn't lose Thalia AND her. I'd lose what sanity I have left and there are days when I'm pretty sure there's really not a lot of it to spare.

"You heard Chiron." I said, keeping my voice as gentle as I could. "Even I'm not old enough for this one."

"Age has nothing to do with it," she answered, stubbornly. Her grey eyes flashed like steel and I knew, right then, I was in for a fight if I didn't start saying the right things, and fast.

"You're right.. but I need something more important from you."

Annabeth leveled a suspicious look. Any imposing aura she might have mustered was broken by a badly timed sniffle.

"I need a plan. I haven't paid that much attention to history classes, and I know you have." I told her. I was honest about this. My mom raised me on stories about the gods and the heroes but one thing I know now is that there's never just one story. Monsters change, show themselves in different ways, act in different ways. Should I have paid more attention? Yeah. But I wasn't actually expecting Hermes to be good for his word either. "Hercules fooled Atlas into doing it for him, but that trick isn't gonna work twice, right?"

She nodded, attention narrowed on the task. I could practically see thoughts racing behind her eyes. "It wont..." She frowned, twisting her hands. "But maybe..."

"I'll rely on you." I said, and she brightened, despite all of her fear... Hades Below... despite all of mine. She had something she could DO to help me and I was sure that it would.

She started to run off and stopped, scowling at me.

"I want you to promise you'll come back."

"I will."

"Swear it."

I hesitated, my throat dry. She looked like she wanted going to cry. Or maybe like she hadn't actually stopped, like she was being brave despite it.

"I swear on the River Styx that..." I hesitated again. A fate worse than death wasn't something I wanted to look forward to. You shouldn't make promises unless you knew you could keep them. I picked my words carefully. "I will do everything in my power to come back to Camp."

"No matter what," she added.

"No matter what," I agreed.

She gave me a long look and then smiled. "I trust you. If anyone can do it, it's you." And ran off into the woods, back towards her cabin and monstrous fort of books.

As for me, I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and walked towards the Big House.

I wish I had that kind of confidence in me.


	3. A Centaur Makes Me Tea

Chiron wasn't as far away as I had thought and there was something soft in his expression that made me wonder if, despite my best attempts, he had overheard the whole conversation anyway. If he did, he didn't make any mention of it.

When I got close, his expression quickly became serious as glanced from me to the doors of the Big House. "You know where to find her."

I shifted from one foot to the other, restless.

"Soooo... is there anything I should do?" I've seen other hopeful quest leaders enter before... and all but one come out. No one really talks about that. No one ever talks about the way the gods are cruel. "This is a first time for me."

"When she chooses to speak to you, listen... and listen carefully. The exact words are of the utmost importance." Chiron looked at me. And so this is going to sound crazy and so what if it is? But sometimes there's this look he gives me that makes me feel like he knows more about me than I do. Something in that look makes me think that whatever he knows, it is the sort of thing that keeps him up at night. He was giving me _THAT_ look right then. I hate that look. "Brace yourself. This may well be your first trial."

"Thanks." I said, dryly. Chiron didn't answer my jittery sarcasm. He just stepped back to let me pass.

There's four flights of stairs to get up to the attic, where the Oracle was kept. 48 steps. I counted. I don't know why. It gave me something to focus on, maybe.

... I keep racking my brain for details, but the honest truth is I don't remember a lot of what's in the attic. Stuff. There was a lot of stuff. It smelled. I remember that.

But I remember _her_.

She was propped up on a stool in the back of the room... She was shriveled, to the point of being mummified. Her skin had shrunk over all of her bones, tight and leathery and she sat, curled up on herself, like someone had let a hippie die and rot up here.

With no warning or fanfare, green mist started to pour out of her mouth, rolling and churning across the floor. Her eyes, what had just been small, milky slits opened, bright green and-

I'd like to say that I stood there, battling my fear, and remained strong and stoic in the face of it.

But I lost it. I just completely lost it. Even now, my heart races when I think about it and hand's shaking and it's hard to write.

Her eyes were just like my mother's when she'd have her fits. Her voice was just like my mother's when she'd stagger down the halls, looking for my hiding place wailing that I was in danger or maybe that I _was_ danger. It was like I was five or six again, cornered in the old home's attic.

I couldn't take it. I tried to get out, but the trap door was shut like the ocean was on the other side of it. I was panicked, fear choking up my throat and eating at my thoughts until all that was left was fight or flight. I wasn't thinking right, so the Mist really got to me more than it should have.

All around, I could make out shapes and voices in the mist. My mother's broken, wailing. _Poor Luke. My poor baby. Not him! Please Hermes help him!_ I felt her fingers dig into me like iron, bruising my shoulders the way it always did when she caught me like that. In the next moment, I saw the terror on Halcyon Green's face as he read my fortune. Thalia yelling that I would never betray anyone. Zoe casting her judgement on me, that I would only let Thalia down.

There was no way out. Closing my eyes didn't help. Covering my ears didn't help. Without anything else to do, I screamed at it all to shut up.

The room went silent. I don't know why it listened, but it did. Cautiously, I lifted my head and opened my eyes.

The mist still coiled around my legs, filling the room, and the glowing green eyes stared at me calmly from the mummy's face.

Clearly, in my head I heard her voice: _I am the spirit of Delphi, speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python. Approach, seeker, and ask._

I wanted to ask about my fate. I wanted to ask about the destiny that everyone but me seemed to know. The question was right there, heavy on my tongue and I hesitated. I remembered the text Halcyon had scribbled into the pages of this book: "Sometimes the future really is better left a mystery."

I was rattled; I ended up asking about the quest.

For a moment, in the mist, I saw my mother... the way she looked in photographs. Confident, self assured, with a wickedly cunning glint in her eyes and a ready smile. She spoke:

 _You will go west to find the twilight gate.  
And battle the mother, cursed in fate._

Halcyon stood before me then, his face was twisted in concern and regret. His voice came from the Leucrotae beside him, as if he'd never found any freedom from his curse.

 _From the captured shell and magic strings,  
You will take the song the children sings._

Finally, and... worst of all, Thalia stood in front of me, her expression severe... but not unkind. She looked at me expectantly.

 _Should then you question your given part,  
You will find an empty hand and heavy heart._

Then it was over.

I don't remember leaving the attic. I kind of remember sitting on the stairs just under it. I don't remember what I was thinking or what I did. I don't think I did anything. I stayed there a really long time.

I must have looked at least half as bad as I felt when I left the Big House, because Chiron immediately ushered me back in, stuffing himself into his wheelchair to do so. I was told to sit at the kitchen table and I really wasn't going to argue. I felt like my legs weren't going to cooperate with me anyway.

The centaur put a kettle on to boil, and set some leaves in a small mesh ball. I don't even know why I paid that much attention, but I'll admit, the normalcy of everything calmed me down. The tea, when he set it in front of me was a little sweet.

I don't know what it was, but I finished half of it before Chiron even said the first word to me.

"When you're ready," was all he said. His voice sounded kind, almost fatherly, and his expression was full of sympathy.

"I think I'm going to fail this." I said and gave a start. I didn't recognize my voice - it was kind of broken and my throat was sore, like I'd gargled Greek Fire.

Chiron's face lit up with a mix of concern and relief at that and... I realized I hadn't said a single word since I had come down from the attic. He probably thought I'd gone full loony. "Tell me what she said. Exactly."

I told him, exactly, and his expression settled into relief.

"That is a warning, my boy, not a destiny." Chiron topped off my cup. I blew on the surface of it before taking another sip. Whatever it was, was also calming my nerves a lot. "Your choices will be important.

"I wish I'd had more time to train you. Don't make that face, I feel that way with every hero." He said. Then, with an overdrawn sigh, he added. "If only you'd more skill with a bow."

I couldn't help but smile a little at that. It was a bit wry, but there. "There's someone on Aphrodite who's a better shot than I am."

"Myoung has bested a child of Apollo." Once. Myoung said it was the power of love guiding her shot. There was accusations of cheating and counter arguments of poor sportsmanship. They retaliated by giving her a curse of dazzling white teeth. Like, seriously dazzling. She was hard to look at for a couple of days. "I would not struggle with that overly hard."

Things were quiet for a little bit. Neither of us had much to say and it was kind of an easy silence.

"I'm... feeling better." I said, finally. It was mostly honest. "Thanks."

"Mm." Chiron poured a cup for himself, at last. "Rest tonight. Make your way in the morning."

"Yeah." I got up to leave, and glanced down at the box in my hand. I didn't realize I'd kept a hold of it... For a moment, the silliness of the situation almost made everything a little easier. What had I looked like? Covered in yams and barbecue sauce, clutching an old shoebox like a shield?

The old instructor smiled at me. "You'll find those to be most powerful tools. In anyone's hands they will fly... In yours? Well, who knows? Use them well."

Curiosity finally got the better of me and I looked inside the box. I didn't _want_ to be excited about it. I didn't want to care, but I was a little unsteady when I opened the lid.

In it was... ... well, for a second I thought they were ordinary hi-top sneakers. They looked like regular Converses, but when I pulled them out, Chiron continued his explanation. "The word Maia will activate them."

"... Maia." I tried. Immediately, they sprouted wings and I had to struggle with all my strength to keep them from just flitting off right there without me. "Maia!" I shouted over all of the fluttering, and they returned to simple shoes again.

"It seems to have quite a bit of potential. I haven't seen a pair that strong in... well. Longer than you've been alive."

I held them in my hands, just kind of sorting out how I felt.

"I wont let you down," I said, without really meaning to.

Mind you, I was talking to Chiron. Not my dad. I hadn't forgiven him. I _especially_ hadn't forgiven him. I just got caught up in the moment, and I think Chiron took it the wrong way. Chiron smiled though, and gathered up the serving set.

I didn't stay to argue it or clarify. I just went back to my cabin, cleaned up, tiptoed over sleeping kids, and found my own bed - after two years I had my own bed. Anyone who doesn't like that can bite me - and went to sleep.


	4. I Commune With a Tree

In the morning, I didn't leave right away. I still had to talk to Annabeth... It's not that she'd never forgive me if I left without seeing her. I'm more convinced that she'd find a way to sneak out of camp and follow me if I didn't.

Instead, I climbed Half-Blood Hill.

Thalia-

You know what? I'm just going to talk about it. Right here. Right now. Get it out.

No, wait. One thing first:

If any of you little thieves in my cabin are reading this right now, snickering "Oh Luke Castellan has a diary," the curse I have on this will tell me everything I need to know.

By now, I know what you are doing. I already know who you are. I know who you are with. I know who you like and who likes you. I will find you, and I will embarrass you in front of everyone you care about _in ways you haven't even dreamed existed._ I promise you I am ruthless in ways you can't anticipate and more creative than all of you put together.

So put it down.

There.

It's funny. I'm way more okay talking about freaking out over the Oracle than this, but I guess that's me all over. I'm still having a hard time just doing it. All right. Here goes:

The gods failed Thalia. They can strike me down right here and right now but it's still the truth.

Zeus, her father, who led her into danger after danger, let her die on this hill. She fell, bravely defending us, her family... bravely defending a camp she'd never been to.

So what did Zeus do? Send down Apollo to heal her? A lightning bolt to smite the enemies before they got to us? Even... you know... warned camp so that all the trained warriors sleeping peacefully just feet away could have been up, given us the protection of Greek Fire and arrows. The dumb goat could have rammed all of the doors or something.

He turned her into a tree.

Not just that, he turned her into a tree, and then used her spirit to protect the Camp. The barrier everyone enjoys is because of Thalia.

There's only one or two campers left who even remember that it happened. The bead that year was a pine tree. The tree Thalia exists as now. And I see it every time I look down, or look in the mirror to shave or catch my reflection.

Annabeth was too important to both of us and I had to get her to safety... you see, when we came to Camp, there was an absolute army of monsters following us. Some of that.. that's my fault. I was angry. I was reckless.

I didn't want to be a traitor, I wanted to be a hero. And heroes don't hide from monsters, right? They fight them!

Yeah, I was stupid.

But I was shaken up and... the thing I was scared of wasn't the fangs and the teeth and the poison. I was scared of what everyone seemed to know about me but wouldn't explain. And well, the monsters I could fight, so I did. We might have made better time if I didn't.

I think about that a lot. If he'd just TOLD me, maybe.. maybe I know what I'm supposed to be doing and worried about that. But, not like that would ever happen.

Shit. This is a rambling mess, isn't it?

The point is, I left Thalia to fight alone, to get Annabeth to safety. I was going to drop her off behind the trees and go back to help. But there wasn't time, and I didn't get a chance. I saw her fall. There was so much blood, I've never seen that much blood and I've seen a lot. I've taken care of a lot of injuries.

Just one look and I knew... she was done. And then. LO. MIGHTY ZEUS.. turns her into the world's most powerful magical item.

The good guys win. I-

Anyways, Halcyon was right. Thalia changed, became a tree. Which meant that someday, she'd change again, and find her real family again: us. I tried to talk to Mr. D about the prophecy and asked for a quest to heal her, but he said quests were the affairs of the gods only, and told me not to ask again.

I mentioned that I've wanted to punch a god? I've wanted to punch a god for a _really long time_.

In the mean time, Hal also said that this time was a lonely time so I would go up and talk to her, every couple of days. Juniper, a dryad here, said she doesn't think Thalia can hear me when I talk, that she wasn't like a normal tree. But, she wasn't completely sure about that either. So... since she wasn't sure I kept trying.

You know, just in case, Thalia can hear me.

That morning, I told her about the food fight and the quest. I told her about the oracle and all the stuff I didn't tell Chiron. I told her about the shoes and how maybe this could all work out. Like always, I told her that if she didn't remember I'd tell her all again later.

I mean, this probably sounds sad, or obsessive, but when I'm talking to her, my head feels clearer, and I feel better when everything's off my chest. I guess that's why I haven't written much here.

So, I'm finishing up, I declare to Thalia that I'd do her proud. I'd come back as a hero.

I had no sooner made this bold and dramatic statement, than the birds took to flight, the wind picked up, rushing past. And a pinecone, loose from its branches, bounce gracefully off of the top my head.

I'm gonna admit here that it probably just some freak coincidence, but I just started laughing. Like, full body, by the gods I needed this, laughter.

When I walked back to camp, I felt better.

Annabeth was waiting for me at the bottom of the hill. She held a lot of papers in her hands, my old backpack (she must have grabbed it from my cabin) and, honestly, looked like she hadn't slept all night.

"I found a bunch of stuff," she explained with a yawn. She had to be really tired if she was going to leave her explanation as 'stuff.' Ever since she found out she was one of Athena's she's really been gung-ho on all that daughter of Athena business. I'd be lying if I didn't admit it was kind of off-putting sometimes. It's really hard to talk about how you think this whole demigod deal is rotten when your partner in conversation thinks it's the blueprints of her life. Even I'm not that obtuse.

"Thanks," I said, kneeling down to give her a hug. She suddenly looked really shy. Feeling pretty merciful, I asked her for the plan instead of teasing her.

Her expression screwed up with frustration. "I don't have one yet." I could tell she didn't like admitting that. "There's a couple of ideas outlined, but I wouldn't call any of them plans."

"Don't worry about it. You know me, I'll think of something."

She nodded, reluctantly. She gave me a smile, and a quick kiss on the cheek, but I could tell she was still beating herself up. "You have drachma. Message me."

If you throw a drachma into a rainbow, the goddess, Iris, if she's not too busy, will sometimes connect you with anyone else, anywhere in the world. It's really handy.

"I will. If I get stumped on anything, you'll hear from me."

She liked that. "You'd better."

I put Halcyon's journal, Annabeth's notes, and my practice blade - celestial bronze - in the backpack she'd given me. Inside was zip lock bags of ambrosia. A thermos that ws probably full of nectar and some regular, honest-to-goodness sandwiches. She _really_ hadn't slept last night.

"You're amazing." She liked that too. Annabeth was practically beaming at me and that kind of thing is infectious. I sat down next to her and opened the box again- the one with my dad's gift. "Wanna see something awesome?"

She looked at it suspiciously.

Look, not every time I use that phrase, is it followed by a prank or an explosion.

"Seriously. I'm going to start this quest in style."

"Lets see." Suddenly eager, I noticed her glancing at the H on the shoes, and checking my expression, like she half expected me to throw them away as my 'in style.' I can't say the thought hadn't crossed my mind this morning more than once.

But no, I laced up the shoes, and threw my old sneakers, ratty, beat up sneaks that had carried me across the country more than once, into the backpack too. I zipped it up, put it on my back and braced myself.

"Maia!" I shouted, striking a pose.

Which is why I nearly ate dirt.

Note to beginners: Do not pose when using magical flying shoes the first time. I don't care who you are the son of.

The important thing is that I didn't eat dirt. I got my feet under me and soared upwards... up there, I could feel the winds around me like I was a bird. It was like the whole sky opened up and my brain just... felt like it was wired into a compass. I knew where all the roads were, where all of the thermals and air pockets were around me, like some weird three dimensional game.

Except it was real, and the whole sky was my playground. I'd never felt anything like it.

I saw Annabeth down below me, looking up, amazed. I grinned, did a jaunty little flip and waved at her.

I took off running, and it felt like the whole world was mine.


	5. I Vanquish Some Pool Rafts

The first day started without many problems at all. I decided to tackle it the practical way: I had money this time, so I used it. Most airport currency exchange booths will change drachma for a pretty good rate if you can find the right one. I caught a flight from Laguardia to Salt Lake City, with good time and plenty of hours left in the day. I didn't know exactly where I needed to go in the west, but I didn't want to overshoot. (Slightly more practically, I didn't have quite enough money to get to LAX without using everything I had.) It gave me time to read Annabeth's notes on the plane, work things out and most importantly: it would give me some extra time away from Camp.

Don't get me wrong! Camp is a haven. It's safe and it provides everything we need. But I can't help but think of it as a cage sometimes.

The extra distance worked out well for me, since as soon as I got a cab out of Salt Lake City, I spent most of it figuring out what my shoes could actually DO. Using winged sneaks really isn't like any other form of magical travel. It definitely is a form of flight, but you can only go for as long as you can run. Luckily for me, I can run a long, long time. I may not be the best in a sprint, but when we're talking a good pace that eats up miles? I've got that down. A lot of my early life really was just moving too much for monsters to actually find me. It did pretty well.

But this? This was fast. Like speeding car fast. Like train fast.

I kept to the sides of highways and roadways since, well, ever since I could remember, it always felt a lot more comfortable than going off into the woods or cutting around. If I was on a road, I knew where I was, and where I was going. I mean, it wasn't perfect. I couldn't tell you the longitude or latitude but I knew the state, and how many miles we had to go, about how long it'd take.. that sort of thing.

So, I raced along the side of the I-80, dodging construction, slow downs, speed traps and the occasional runaway mattress on the side of the road. I know, I know, I should have been a lot less conspicuous. The Mist probably had people thinking some idiot on a motorcycle was breaking all of the traffic and speed laws. But some part of me was kind of imagining me as some comic book hero speeding on past. You know, like the Flash, without the tights. I've got some dignity here.

Though for the newly minted hero I was, the first challenge didn't come from anywhere I expected.. There were a few enormous buzzards circling above that I wasn't honestly sure if they were regular birds, Caucasian eagles or harpies. That's how big they were. They were silent in the sky, enormous wingspans not bothering to flap, they kept up with me without even trying. One let out a hideous shriek and dove, only pulling back up when a semi roared between it and me, raking a huge gash through asphalt and concrete. I wasn't eager to find out if any of the others up there had better aim, so I put on some speed, and that's where I made my first mistake.

So if you're a half-blood reading this, you know the standard manufacturer warning on winged shoes. You know, don't try to fly faster than 80 miles per hour. Don't try to fly at the sun. Always wear at LEAST a diamond hardness helmet and full armor. Gum on the soles can create deadly friction, yada yada.

Turns out they can go WAY faster than that. Now, I'm not recommending you go out and try that, because the way it felt was really mixed. My eyes watered until I couldn't see the roadway. I couldn't breathe with the air going by me so fast. Worst of all, it felt like someone was playing tug of war with my guts. At first, it wasn't bad. In fact, it was exhilarating! I could feel miles pass by in an instant. It felt like freedom. Like flight. 10, 25, 50, miles. Teleporting must feel like this. My father must feel like this all the time. I wanted to do it forever.

Annnnndddd then my gas tank ran out. It was the sort of full body pain that starts in your toenails and hits every last end of hair that you have. I stumbled to a stop out in the middle of nowhere, feeling like if I'd need to take another step I would die up and die.

I might have actually run that risk, looking back at it. I didn't know for sure, but I knew that whatever I had just done, it was only for emergencies. I hadn't called their activation word to turn them back into regular shoes, but they'd reverted anyway. And me? I was tired. Zombie sort of tired. All higher level thought than finding a place to nap was just gone.

Whatever I had done, had left me in the middle of the desert, with limp, tired shoes, no water, and a long way to go. I'm not Grover so if you put me out into the wilderness I'm a little lost. I knew I was in Nevada somehow... but where? No idea. All the scrub brush looked the same to me, and the heat mirages marked the way in silvery promises of water. I picked a direction and started stumbling that way. Not much to talk about, it all kind of blended together.

It was around sunset when I saw the rundown southwest-style hotel silhouetted in the vivid splash of colors shooting up from the western horizon. I really didn't think it was real. It was hot, I was more tired than I've been in years... I wasn't thinking straight. I went right for it.

I didn't mean to stay very long. I just wanted some shade, a vending machine and some directions to the nearest interstate. I didn't want a room. Ever since that one incident with the serpent at the Holiday Inn, I was never really comfortable staying in motels. If I had to, I'd just open up some house that had a for sale sign on it and take a nice, comfortable carpeted floor. Sometimes I was lucky enough to find a bed or two.

The lock on the back gate didn't give me any trouble. And thankfully, the whole place looked deserted when I snuck in.

The place was set up in a large horseshoe shape. Plain white doors dotted adobe walls and if there were any windows I didn't see them. Heavy statues stood in the inner courtyard, crowding around what looked like an Olympic-sized swimming pool. The statues were a lot of the southwest motif: soaring eagles, totem poles, bears, and the occasional modern art. Which basically means I didn't know what they were supposed to be at all.

The pool was pretty impressive though. Even more so given that it had to be 114 degrees out right then. It was deep and blue, with roped off swimming lanes and lazily floating, huge turtle pool rafts. It looked deep but, I guessed, due to the heat, the water levels were low. It had to be half the pool's depth from the lip to the surface of the water.

The only thing that kept me from jumping in to cool off was the fact that I was thirsty and really didn't want to swallow a whole bunch of chlorine.

I rummaged around the courtyard. There was no water fountain, but I found a garden hose by a small cactus garden, turned it on and drank my fill. I stood under it for a while, just letting the lukewarm water take my temperature down a few degrees and after a few minutes, I felt something nearly human again.

I found what drachma I had left in my pack, turned the nozzle up, and put my thumb in the stream to get a good stream of water. There wasn't a lot of sun left, but there was enough for a rainbow and an Iris message.

"O Goddess, accept my offering," I said, tossing a coin in. "Annabeth, Camp Half-Blood."

Reflected in the water, my friend sat upright suddenly, running a hand through her hair to straighten it. "Luke! You're okay!"

"Hey there," I greeted her. "I'm.." I gave a quick check. Now that I wasn't quite as bone tired, it was a little easier. "Almost at Carson City, give or take."

"Any sign of where you need to be going?" Right to the point.

"Not a single one. Prophecy's a little vague there."

"Can you tell me what it was?" We both share a look, mine a little shame faced, hers a little grumpy, when I realize I actually HADN'T told her what the Oracle had said.

I told her the first four lines. No point in making her worry about the rest. Her face scrunched up and she worried at her bottom lip thoughtfully. She shook her head, and I nodded. I didn't expect anything right away.

"I've never been further west than the Mississippi, myself." When I met Thalia in North Carolina, she'd wanted to go north or south. Anything but west. Probably to put as much distance between herself and her mother. I didn't blame her or argue. It's not like I had anywhere I needed to be at the time.

"Did you read all of the notes I gave you?" she asked, tone a little distant. Annabeth was already paging through a book she had in front of her.

"Yeah. I bought some earplugs at the airport." Her notes were pretty clear that the Hesperides liked to lure men in with their songs and attempted to keep them forever for company. There was a part of me that wondered if that was REALLY that bad of a fate, but she'd underlined earplugs nearly a dozen times. "Did you find anything more on the chance Hercules already killed the dragon?"

"There's only one account," she answered, looking a little miserable. It meant the chances that there wasn't going to be a huge dragon there... was pretty low. "Hera won't leave her garden unguarded. She doesn't trust the Hesperides. If you can catch it while it's asleep, you might be able to get in and out."

"We'll count on that, then," I assured her, though I didn't feel that confident. "I'll-"

"Ah! Thessy! You've got the hose going, good! Good! Bring it over." An old man's voice piped up from somewhere behind me and I froze. I'd thought I was alone and I was certainly not whoever the guy thought I was.

"Gotta go!" I tell Annabeth and drop the hose. I hear a "Be caref-!" from her before the connection cut. I went to bolt for the gate, intending to just keep going on my way, but the groundskeeper found me first.

The man was skinny and skin was blotched with liver spots. The blue coveralls he wore almost hung off of him, white hair went wildly every which way on his head. His nametag said S. Ciron, Manager. Just my luck, I stumbled on the boss.

He squinted at me from behind thick-lensed glasses.. "Ah... Thessy... Come, come. Those statues aren't going to power wash themselves!"

I looked from him to the thin hose. There was no way that thing was going to get enough pressure...

"Actually... I'm not Thessy." I volunteered. "I'm- I was looking to get a room. And some directions." It was only half a lie, anyway.

"Ohhh. Are you now?" The man drew himself up to... really not much taller. Somewhere in the range of slightly less stooped. "Well, I can't go into the books yet. Tasks left undone. Make yourself useful, boy. Bring that hose over."

I had no sooner picked up the end - intending to just give it to him - as he was behind me, pushing me with some surprising strength towards the pool and the statues. "Wait!"

"Don't fret none, I'll give you a discount. I'm a fair man." Mr. Ciron chuckled. He gave me a shove towards ... what looked like an ogre squatting over the water. Mud, sand, litter and cockroaches had built up into a smelly mess between the statues toes. "Just get rid of that and you can stay the night."

I looked back over to him, completely worried at this point. He didn't feel powerful. He didn't feel like anything at all, actually. But that didn't stop me from feeling like this was a really bad idea. "Free?" I couldn't really hide the suspicion from my voice.

"Good workers are hard to find these days. No one comes by here any more. Used to be a big train station, right here. Used to see travelers every day." He sighed and shoved his hands into his overall pockets.

At this point, I knew something wasn't right... but if it was a monster, I didn't know which one it was. It hadn't attacked yet, and I would have to drop my pack to get at my sword. It might not do anything if I just play nice; there's at least a couple I'd run into when I was really small that would let me go if I just got something for them. I just had to be careful and then get going.

"All right. Sure. But I've got to get going after." I gave the hose a few good tugs to get some slack, and then shrugged off my pack and dropped it beside me. The old man was more than a few paces away from me, and didn't look like he was in any hurry to get close.

I pulled the sword out of my pack and the old man didn't even blink. If he was an enchanted mortal, who knows what he saw? If he was a monster... he wasn't going to be getting any closer either. So, what did I do? An honest day's work. I know, surprised me too.

The muck poured right off most of the statues like I was using a lot more pressure than just a garden hose, but I wasn't really interested in scrubbing either. I was still so tired from my run that even holding the hose up made my arms feel embarrassingly weak. I drug my pack between statue and statue, keeping some distance between me and the old man, gradually relaxing as the situation turned out to be more extremely weird than it was dangerous.

At the last one, as I was spraying some leaves from between the huge, gnarled toes of bear, I heard him call out: "Good work, good work, Thessy. Put that back and we'll get done."

Letting a little sigh of relief, I dropped the hose. I reached for my pack and was suddenly and soundly kicked into the pool next to me by the statue of a bear. I hadn't even seen it move, but I saw a flash of cheap red clay, a view of the sky, and then the water covering my head.

If you've ever jumped into a pool fully clothed, you know how much clothes weigh when they get wet. On top of that, bronze, even magical monster slaying bronze wasn't exactly light either. I had to really struggle to break surface and keep my head above water. Gasping, I shouted "MAIA!" But the shoes took me up a few inches... and then dropped me back under the surface. Either they didn't work underwater, or they hadn't recovered from that reckless sprint I'd done a little earlier. I let out a string of curses that I'm not gonna write out here.

I swam to the edge of the pool, but the water level was well below where I could reach the lip, even doing my best awkward attempts to jump out of the water.

"Gets em every time!" The old man was cackling above, the laughter sounding more like coughing than mirth. "Oh... oh! This will sell well. Nectar? My my my, you came loaded, boy."

"Hey!" I was going to protest.. but I couldn't think of anything that was going to HELP. Stop that? Help me? Ha.

The lane ropes were securely anchored into the walls of the pool. I tried climbing up onto one of them, but the rope swung this way and that under the water, defying any chance of balance. I brought my sword up and cut one of them, and started pulling myself along the rope. If I could get enough length, maybe I could loop it around one of the statues above with a good throw. I didn't get very far down the lane before a semicircle of mottled green surfaced near me, swimming past.

The pool floaties weren't inflatable rafts at all... they were giant turtles. If giant turtles had huge, sharp beaks full of teeth.

"Noticed them, have you? That's Phil and Tonky. They haven't been fed in what? Couple decades. We haven't gotten any travelers in a while. There used to be a train station, right out there, you know." I turned in the water, glaring up at the thief. The old man crouched at the edge of the pool, that coughing cackle was almost a constant right now. Both of his hands were full... In one, the thrice-cursed beast was eating one of my sandwiches. But in the other, he had a fist full of green bills - the travel funds I had left - and it gave me an idea.

"So... you don't want these?" I struggled into my pockets - wet jeans aren't the most friendly - and pulled out the dozen or so drachma I had left, and held it up. They glittered in the last rays of the setting sun.

"Is that gold?"

"Sure is." I was more than a little out of breath at this point. I was fit, but treading water, weighed down and already exhausted. I didn't know what else I was going to do. I pleaded with him. "Let me up, and you can have them and my pack."

The old man stared down at me, mistrust and greed warring on his withered face. Finally he gave me a gap toothed grin and lowered... a pool cleaning net.

"Put them in. I'll put the ladder back after. Yes, yes I will, my boy."

I swam forward, watching the two killer turtles leisurely circle closer. I dropped the coins on the flat surface of the net and waited until I saw his hands tighten on the handle, preparing to pull the net back in.

I grabbed the net and yanked hard, pulling the man into the pool. He sailed over my head and splashing right in the path of the nearest turtle. He shot back up, thrashing in the water desperately.

"PHIL! Phil! Back away now! Back!" he shrieked, flailing wildly. Phil didn't seem to care who he was, in fact, if anything, the beast sped up its swim. "Traveler! Hero! Strike it! Strike it! Yes, yes! Kill it!"

"Let me out first!" I stayed at the edge of the pool.

"I can't!" I panicked at that. I figured the guy would have some magic trick, like the statue had been. You know, wave a hand and POOF. STAIRS or hand holds... I wanted out. I didn't want to kill him, even if he had certainly tried his best to off me. "Have mercy, hero! Kind hero! Wise hero! I'll give you riches! Free shampoo! Travel sized!" I took a deep breath, gathered my strength and pushed off from the wall, swimming towards the struggling man, sword ready to strike.

I wasn't fast enough. The turtle opened its mouth. Wide, like a garage door opening... and just swallowed him whole. Chomp. That was it. I struggled in the water to stop and pushed back with my hands, not really eager to be bite number two.

Having had its meal, Phil whuffled contentedly, and began to sink. Tonky, however, was still advancing. I glanced around frantically, trying to find anything at all to stop it. I didn't think my sword was going to be much more than a toothpick for it.

"Come on," I said out loud, looking up. "Just a little extra power. Just this once." I prayed. I hadn't done it since Hal's house. It didn't help me then, and I didn't think it would in the pool either, but without any other options, it's what I had.

Tonky glided in, its maw opening. I squeezed my eyes closed, and screamed, "MAIA!"

It wasn't much, and I nearly passed out from the effort it took to wrench out that last bit of power. But I lifted clear of the water, with a couple of weak flaps of the magical wings. The white feathers on the soles dissolved almost an instant after, dropping me back onto the turtle's back. I'd fallen flat on my back, and couldn't find the strength to get back up.

Luckily, I didn't need to.

It couldn't find me, or feel me on its back, so it's huge flippers spun it this way and that in the water, giving inhuman, shrieking hisses. It took a few rapid turns before it stopped suddenly in the water, tangled in one of the lane ropes... the one I'd cut earlier. It struggled wildly against it, making me clutch the grooves in its shell.

Finding no give, I could see the water line rise in the corner of my eyes; it decided to try and sink. I didn't want to do that again. I didn't think I COULD do that again and survive. I pushed myself up to one elbow and stuck my hand out to where it could see it.

With a shriek, it lunged in the direction it saw tasty flesh, maw slamming open and closed ferociously.. and got caught on one of the anchored pool lines. I forced myself up to one knee and waved a hand in the other direction... sure enough the monster surged towards it, snapping... tangling itself with another line. The struggles became shudders as the beast had no give in any direction at all.

I didn't really have enough energy to celebrate, I just took a few steady breaths, lifted my sword and brought it down on the creature's head. The soft meat of the monster turned to dust, leaving me floating on top of a rope-tangled shell. As soon as I was sure that it wasn't going to vanish too and drop me down to be turtle chow, I flopped back on it and rested as the evening washed over the desert.

I don't know how long it was, but it felt like half the night before I felt steady enough to get up and walk the ropes to the edge of the pool and, with the greater height of my tightrope, lift myself up over the lip.

I'd never been so happy to have had years of weird Camp training as right then.

 ***A/N - I know Sciron was used in Heroes of Olympus but this chapter was actually written before I read the second series. So, recycled monsters GO!**


	6. Stadium Sized Signs From Above

As expected, the only things left in my pack were the few trinkets that the old bandit hadn't considered worth stealing. I had Annabeth's notes, and this journal, but nothing else. Everything else had gone into the thief's pockets, which were now in the stomach of the turtle napping off its meal at the bottom of the pool.

"What a shame." Again, just as I was leaving, someone speaks up from behind me. It was a woman's voice, cultured, refined and with a little bit of ... pity, I guess? It didn't matter, I was done with interruptions. I turned, sword already ready.

There was a ... well, a stunningly gorgeous woman reclining on one of the deck chairs, black hair impeccably styled up, and wearing a modest, elegant bathing suit. There was no sun, but she seemed just at ease soaking up the full moon's rays. They lit up her skin like silver.

"Luke Castellan," she warned, her brown eyes showing disappointment. "Do you point your sword at all of the gods?"

I was dumbstruck for a moment, mind racing. I let the sword fall from my fingers, and I can't explain why I did it, but I dropped to one knee. Instinct, maybe. "Lady Hera," I guessed.

She smiled warmly, as if I'd spelled aardvark correctly. In English. "Rise, young hero, and come to my side."

I pushed myself up with some effort, and stepped over to stand at her feet, giving the statues a lot of distance. She sat up, and a large, fluffy towel appeared in her hands. She offered it to me with a nod and a smile.

"Thanks.." I didn't know exactly what was going on. I'd only met two gods in person before... My father once, and that went exactly how I'd have expected it to go. And Mr. D. And I've already talked about my feelings on that one. This, though... this was completely different. It didn't seem bad. So I rubbed the water off of my face and hair and let the towel hang over my shoulders before looking back at her, cautiously.

"Good." She didn't offer a seat, and I didn't take one. Something in her tone changed the mood in some way I couldn't quite put my finger on. "Ever since they devoured Sciron the first time, why, they've had quite the taste for thieves."

"S'that right?" I couldn't quite help the surge of annoyance at that statement. It was an old defensiveness that took the bait. But when all of your magical skills are things that suit a bank robber more than a hero, what grounds did I have to argue?

"The fact that you survived..." Her eyes flicked over me. "I suppose that means there is some hope, after all." With a wave of her hand, she was garbed in a deep green gown, elegant and proper. She stood and looked at me over her shoulder. "Give up your quest and turn back."

"I... I can't do that! Why would I do that?"

Hera's eyes darkened with anger. "I don't believe you understand, child. Those are _my_ apples. You travel to _my_ garden."

She was right, I hadn't understood. I'd read that they were hers, a wedding gift from Gaea when she had married Zeus, but... I don't know. I guess I had expected Hermes to have cleared it before giving me a quest. Or that Hermes was delivering a quest for her?

"So you... didn't give the okay on this."

"Those apples are symbols." Her smile never wavered, but now it looked more painted on and it certainly didn't reach her eyes. There was outright _fury_ boiling in her eyes. "They mean commitment. Everlasting, eternal, happy commitment. Why would I ever want commitment to be _stolen_ from me. Now... Hermes has played little jokes before... It's cruel for you to be caught up as a bit of a prank, don't you think?"

Joke. A prank. I didn't answer. I didn't think I could answer. I was too angry.

"Oh, don't be worried," she continued, misjudging whatever expression was on my face. "If you show a little sense, I'll surely forgive him. After all, we're family. I don't want all of the squabbling that this little .. problem... would be if you were to continue." She laid a hand on my shoulder, and my clothes were suddenly dry, cleaned and mended. "You understand the importance of family, don't you, Luke?"

Her aura washed over me like a wave of guilt. It coaxed out every wretched insecurity I had and laid bare for me all of the excuses I used under the withering stare of the mother of all mothers. In her brown eyes, I saw all the times I wasn't really all that proud of myself. I remembered the first time I lied to my mom, hiding the monster I'd just killed behind the living room couch. I remembered the time I convinced her I didn't need to go to school for half a month, by telling her every morning that it was Saturday. I saw her not really understanding that I wouldn't be back for lunch, despite me telling her several times. I smelled all the rotting sandwiches when we'd stopped back there to tend to Thalia's leg. I remembered the look of hurt on my father's face when I rightfully pointed out that he couldn't possibly love me. I remembered the jealousy I felt when Annabeth was claimed by Athena in such a flashy, dramatic way, the way camp bowed to her... something I'd never had because I already knew my parents. I remembered how I didn't talk to her much during the summers, when there were other children of Athena around her...

In the middle of all of it, was an insidious voice telling me that if I turned back now, I could fix all of that. There was time. There was a way. I could have a perfect family, warm and loving and-

I was being manipulated. I realized it suddenly and clearly, and it gave all of my anger a blazing hot focus.

I swallowed hard, glaring at her. "I'll think about it."

"See that you do." She seemed to grow, displeasure a thunderstorm on her face. "You have MUCH at stake."

I managed to look away before she dropped her disguise, and vanished. The towel around my shoulders evaporated with her.

I had stumbled back to one of the rooms without even bothering to pick up my sword. I leaned against one of the doors, concentrating in little, faded waves until the door's tumblers clicked into place and I got entrance to the room.

I didn't care if there were five hundred snakes in there, that night. I just wobbled over to the bed, threw myself down on it. I was asleep the moment I hit the covers.

I felt worlds better in the morning. Energy had crept back into me over night, so I started the day with the shower. I pocketed all of the toiletries and one of the towels, because, hey. They could be useful and Sciron had promised me them anyways. I went out to grab my sword, and happened to glance into the pool.

There was no sign of the other turtle in the water, but the monster that I had defeated was gone too. Instead, there was a harp floating in the water, tangled in the ropes.

"Lucky day, after all..." Monster parts sometimes did that. They sold really well if you could find a buyer and knew what you had. I kept Thalia and I going for years just on what we managed to kill. Hey, you can't steal EVERYTHING you need. Sometimes, cash was the only way to keep going. I didn't even think twice. I cut a few more of the ropes and reeled the treasure in.

The moment my hand touched it, the harp transformed, turning into an I-pod with a turtle shell design case. On a lark, I put the earbuds in and dramatically ordered up some music, imagining the way Thalia would wrinkle her nose and sigh at my taste in music. "Billy Joel."

The beat of Uptown Girl poured into my ears, drowning out all of the other sounds around me. I grinned.

"Shell and strings, huh?" I might have just found something better than earplugs.

There weren't any roads that lead to the hotel, but just like the old man has said, there was a well used set of train tracks near by. By the lack of a station, I guessed that only freight trains passed along them these days. That suited me well enough.

I wasn't exactly eager to activate my shoes again for a long run. They were useful, really useful, but they also kind of dumped me into a monster's trap. Besides I was still pretty sore from yesterday.

I walked along the planks probably for another mile or so until a train roared along the westbound set. I judged my timing, caught a ladder on a jump, and climbed to the top of one of the double box cars without dislocating my arm. There were no passenger cars, of course, and everything on the line was secured, but I didn't really need to unlock anything yet. The day was started out pretty nice. The sun was warm and the wind was cool, any weather was a long way off.

A thunderstorm brewed out on the horizon, one of those weird angry things that hover over the desert and churn out rain that evaporates long before it hits the ground. As the tracks gently veered northwards, the sunlight caught the rain just so, spreading a vivid, full arching rainbow across the sky.

So when the Iris message Annabeth had been trying to send me finally went through, it came on a three mile wide, one mile tall screen.

I nearly fell right off the damn train.

"Luke!" The monstrous, titanic, nine year old called out gleefully. It sounded like a dragon roaring. She paused and looked at me funny. "Luke are you okay?"

"Fine!" It was a little shrill. "I'm fine! Everything's fine!"

"That doesn't seem fine."

"I... You just startled me."

The giant sized Annabeth gave me a judging gaze, before deciding what she had to say definitely outweighed whatever I was hiding. Which is good, because there was NO WAY I was explaining that one.

"I figured out where you need to go! I can't believe I didn't get it immediately when you told me about the prophecy! It's so obvious." She leaned forward in the image. I leaned back, unconsciously. "The Golden Gate! It's one of the furthest and most well known landmarks in the west! Of course, it's a perfect symbol for the sunset! You'll need to go there at dusk."

"So," I thought, trying to remember. Look, I hadn't had a lot of time in mortal school, and didn't have a good time while I WAS there. Magical geography only got me as close as relative location. "San Francisco?"

"Exactly! You're not too far from it... try to get there tonight, okay?"

"Why? There's no time limit on this one."

Annabeth frowned. "No... but. I heard Dionysus arguing with someone about the quest. Something's really weird right now."

I couldn't help but feel a bit cold, especially after the conversation last night.

"I'll get back soon," I promised her. "Thanks... and hey. Annabeth?" She nodded; she was listening. "When I get back... lets talk more, okay?" What can I say, last night kind of really hit me in a sore spot. I had been kind of a jerk, a bit.

She ducked her head, but not before I could see the shy smile on her face. The feed cut.

I lay back on the top of the box car, grinning and resolved to get a bit of rest.


	7. I Jack a Sweet Set of Wheels

Last night, I must have been too exhausted to dream, which is a good thing. Half-bloods don't seem to actually get nice dreams. The one I had on the train to San Francisco was trying to make up for lost time for sure.

It started with a beautiful woman sitting on a throne. Every part of her was composed, regal and obviously full of royalty and power. Her caramel colored skin seemed to glow with power and her black eyes were confident, but kind. She wore cut and carved jewels plaited into her hair, strung on thin wires of gold and silver... and her dress was both made of rich, colorful silks from foreign lands and dyed, painstakingly wrought soft antelope skin, holding the gauzy bolts of silk in place like ribbons wrapped around her. Each strip seemed to honor a different god or goddess, scenes of myth tooled carefully into the leather.

In front of her, Zeus- Somehow I knew it was Zeus, as he looked more like an Egyptian king than he did anything I pictured. But I guess gods can look like anything they please. Anyways, he kisses her hand gently, but she smiles and rebuffs his advances. Which was good, because there are some things I don't want to watch. My grandfather getting it on is one of them.

Instead, she rises from her throne and bids him to follow her, and takes her two children.. their two children... from the attendants. I watch the king of gods brush the hair of a newborn with obvious pride and love and just wanted to look away, but I couldn't. All I could do was kind of stew in my own annoyance at watching this. Yeah. Great, so Zeus cared about SOME of his kids way back when. Trust me, he's nothing but a divine deadbeat now.

The dream changes, and the queen of Libya is sitting on her throne again, a golden spear across her lap as she listens to the bickering of two merchants. Suddenly, the whole room goes quiet and everyone turns to the double doors at the end of the audience chambers. Standing there is another queen. Dressed in the finery and simple whites and golds of Greek heritage ... Hera had made no attempt to pretend she was from the region.

Her regal aura and anger flooded the room, and she walked slowly up to the queen, peasants and nobles alike scrambling out of her way. Still, the queen upon her throne didn't balk. However, she did set aside her spear, tip lowered as not to point at the goddess. She rose and then sank to one knee on the thick pile of lion and antelope pelts, paying her proper homage.

Hera wasn't pacified. "You have stolen from me, Queen of Libya, Daughter of Hecate."

"I have taken nothing that was not freely offered at my feet," her eyes were lowered, but her tone was measured, prideful.

It wasn't the right answer.

"Rise." Hera's voice was full of rage and venom and the queen stood up stiffly, maybe a little awkwardly, like her movements were not her own. Together they walked to the same room I'd seen moments before. Hera striding with pride and grace, the queen staggering from foot to foot.

The attendants beyond the threshold seemed to know immediately that something was wrong with their queen, but what could they do? When Hera snapped her fingers, an elderly woman carrying a bundle of swaddling cloth came forward and offered it to the goddesses arms.

Not realizing the danger it was in, the baby cooed and gurgled cheerfully, and I could see a small hand grasping up towards the patron goddess of families. Hera smiled, and gave the child to the queen.

"I cannot see what you have taken returned to me, but I can see the fruits of it consumed. You will have no family, no kingdom, and no rest." Hera snapped her fingers again, and the queen convulsed. Her hands trembled, and she lifted her own child... claws sprouting under her fingernails and scales erupting from her skin.

"No! No please! I beg of you!" the queen wailed, but couldn't seem to help herself. Her mouth opened wide, impossibly so, jaw unhinging, and she swallowed her own child in one gulp.

Horrified, the attendants screamed, scrambling away from the goddess and the monster that was shrieking and crying in grief. They tried to spirit away the elder child, a two year old, but the new monster was faster, slithering forward. She snapped up her firstborn child, lifting the crying child above her head.

It took more than one bite for this one. I'm not going to describe it. I didn't even want to watch it.

Broken, sobbing, the monster surged forward, screaming curses in languages I didn't know and trying to rend the goddess with her own claws and teeth, but Hera simply vanished, a cruel, satisfied smile on her lips.

Lost, the queen staggered around the room, moaning. The empty, distant look in her eyes kind of reminded me of my own mom's on her good days. "My children! Where are my children?!"

I awoke with a start, scrambling across the floor of the boxcar I'd taken shelter in, heart racing. I didn't know who that was, but it was clear why I dreamed it. A warning and a threat.. Hera was not being subtle. I pushed open the boxcar doors, climbing over the piles of timber to get out and back into the early morning sun. I needed some air, and something to cool my head.

Normally, travel calmed me down. I didn't realize how much simply being on the move did for me until I couldn't do it anymore. The stagnation of living in camp itched under my skin a lot... I mean I could go exploring or run the trails but it wasn't the same as having a direction and a lot of ground to cover. It felt good to be on top of the car, listening to the train thrum over the tracks, swaying, eating up miles. It refreshed me in a way sleep didn't and calmed my thudding heart.

I will say that the trip to San Francisco gave me two things. One of which was a sunburn. The other was a lot of time to think. I'll admit, I spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about my conversation with Hera and the dream. Why the heck did I kneel? She was very clearly no any better than any of the rest, though I consoled myself with the fact I didn't know that right away. And stop the quest? I should have just told her and all of Olympus that if they wanted me to stop, Hermes himself should appear and tell me himself.

Now THAT idea I liked enough to try out. I stood up. I shouted those exact words into the rushing wind. If he wanted me to stop, he could just say it. Send me a sign. Anything. ... Of course, nothing happened. No wind changing direction. No random letter. Certainly not him in person. Because it's Hermes. I'm the only one he doesn't have a message for, apparently. Especially not one where there's a whole terrifying thing going on and I could use a couple good words of advice. Why break _tradition,_ right?

So that left me... what? Was this the choice Halcyon warned me about? I wished, not for the first time, that he'd written about what I was up against in this journal. I liked this less and less. It's not that I had a lot to lose. I had no kingdom but I definitely had a family. I don't know what she could do worse to Thalia at this point, but Annabeth... The idea of turning into a monster and hurting her made me sick to my stomach. Was that the betrayal? He said my choices would affect the world... was that making the gods fight each other?

I was getting a headache thinking about it.

So, I set it aside for now. The train wasn't going to turn around, and wasn't going to be walking home. I decided I'd at least get to the garden, see it, and decide then. If it was just that my father could get into trouble? More the reason to finish it. Spite could drive me pretty far. There must be something important going on that I don't get yet and there was only one way to find out.

I jumped off the train the moment it started to slow outside of San Francisco. I activated my magic shoes long enough to get a nice gentle landing, and made my way through the suburbs. Once I was in the city, I didn't have any problems at all. This? This was a landscape I knew. The skyline was different, but the beat of it didn't change from town to town.

I didn't have any money left, but that wasn't going to stop me either. I slipped on a bus, sliding in the shadow of a larger, beefier guy in a suit. An old lady in the front seat scowled at me, but didn't seem to think telling on me to the driver was worth the effort, because she huffed something about children these days and turned to glare out the window.

San Fran's got style though. The wide streets are carved with trolley tracks and colorful townhouses erupt from steep hills like giant teeth. Even deep into the city, green trees line the streets, roots battling concrete for the right to exist, and a sea of people, bicyclists, businessmen and tourist swarmed the roads.

I was across the city, between dodging onto buses and the occasional ride, clinging to the handrails of a trolley, in almost no time at all. In fact, it was barely two in the afternoon when I was in the depths of the city by the bay. The skyscrapers that shaped the skyline were now giants that towered around me, and I could hear the roar of a nearby stadium, a crowd cheering on an early afternoon game.

I had time to kill before sunset. No money and I hadn't eaten in well over two days. Just a bowl of mints I'd scavenged from the Hotel Nowhere's front lobby. There hadn't been anything in the register. I checked. So, I let my stomach guide my feet, planning on seeing what someone wouldn't mind go missing. Okay, not the most heroic thing in the world, I admit, but any longer I'd start getting dizzy if I tried to fight or run. I knew that from experience. Pride would get me killed and that was _not_ a situation I was keen on taking on an ancient, terrifying dragon with.

I was weighing my odds of the front display of a convenience store on one side of the road guarded by a jowly middle aged guy in a tank top reading a newspaper, versus the chance of a successful eat and run at an outdoor cafe on the other, when I heard something even better. The tinny, loud tune of an ice cream truck slowly creeping through a neighborhood nearby.

So I grew up in the burbs and I knew exactly what ice cream trucks actually were. They were a Tantalus-level torture system for little kids. Yeah, that guy who got cursed by the gods to stand in water and be unable to drink, under a tree filled with fruit and be unable to eat. That guy. Ice cream trucks were just like that. They were either too far by the time you heard them, or didn't have money at the time.

But I had magical flying shoes and... okay well I didn't have any money, but I do have a winning smile and some really good hard luck stories. I decided to give it a shot for all of the times little me was too good of kid to try sneaking into the back of that ice cream filled paradise.

All that lead up is really just to explain why I was so suspicious that I caught the blasted thing almost immediately. I didn't even need super speed or a magical road block. Forget the Herculean Labor in front of me, I just beat one even the legendary demigod would have blanched at. Which is why I knew it was a trap long before I caught the whiff of reptiles and fudgsicles.

The ice cream truck was parked between two towering apartment buildings, canopy pulled down and Pop Goes the Weasel playing on loop. A woman in a white coat sat in a lawn chair outside of the truck, seeming to be waiting for ANY customers. The fact that there were none made me worry even more. The woman just would have looked frail and a bit frazzled at the edges if it wasn't for her olive colored skin. I don't mean that the way you usually hear olive skin. I mean, her skin tone had the same color as an olive. The same kind you get in the supermarket with those weird red things stuck in the middle.

So why did I get any closer? I had a bad feeling. Yeah I know, most of the time, when I get a bad feeling it means GO THE OTHER WAY, FOOL. But this time, I got the feeling it walking away would be worse now that she'd obviously seen me. She lifted her chin, sniffing the air, and she smiled at me, a little too widely for a real face.

"Child... Come closer." She hisses her sses. I'm not writing it out because it feels dumb to write out, but just imagine it. It was as creepy as it sounds. "Would you like a Bomb Pop? A Sunday Crunch?"

I slipped one of the straps of my pack off so I could get to my sword quickly. I gave her the only civilized answer I could think of: "Do you have those ice cream sandwiches?"

She smiled, a forked tongue flickering between sharp teeth. "Oh, I have one in the back. Come with me, my child."

So after my last encounter, I was in no way going to give the benefit of the doubt to a monster. I waited until she got up from the lawn chair and turned her back to me, and grabbed for my sword- and that's as far as I got.

She said something I didn't understand at all, a phrase in some other language and I froze, as soundly as if I had been turned to stone. I struggled against the magic, but I could hardly wiggle my fingers much less swing my sword. It just felt heavy and useless in my hand. The woman strode up to me and moved me like a doll, marching me helplessly towards the back of the truck.

"Shh. Be a good child. Be good." She stroked a clawed hand down my face, and I couldn't even flinch. Or bite her. I doubt she even broke a sweat when she lifted me off of my feet and threw me in. Before she closed the door, she dropped her disguise... and I could see her clearly. Scales twisted a snake-like face, misty red eyes stared sort of over and around me. Her smile was serrated and far, far too wide. I knew that face. I dreamed it.

The doors to the truck slammed shut and the ice cream truck's music started again. I'm not sure if she felt I wasn't worth dealing with right now, or just wanted to save a snack for later.

I struggled, but couldn't seem to get any control of my limbs back. Whatever magic held me, it was more secure than a rope could ever be. I was pretty sure I could loosen any knot that bound me, and if I couldn't... it's not like she had disarmed me. But this? I had no idea what to do with this. This was well beyond the curses I'd seen thrown around at Camp.

The back of the truck was dark, but I could make out what looked like a small kitchenette, a spice rack with a few glowing jars and vials on it, and of course, large freezers. There wasn't anything conveniently marked: Hey! Knock this off of the shelf for magical cure to your everyday curses. I could move a bit, but my hands and feet were stuck to each other as securely as if I was bound.

So I formed the best plan I could. 1. Wiggle close to the doors. 2. When she opens them, kick her in the face. 3. Improvise. 4. Don't die. Not the finest, I admit, but you work with what you've got.

I would have had some serious problems with number 4 on that list had the freezer doors not opened themselves.

When a kid's head popped up from a pile of blow pops, I was pretty sure I was hallucinating. He held a finger to his lips, giving a faint hissing SHH! before climbing out. I wouldn't have believed my own eyes, had he not crawled over and put his hand on mine and whispered a few words urgently... the same strange language the snake woman had hissed at me. But his small hands were solid and very, very cold. I couldn't tell you how long he'd been hiding in there, but his lips were blue and he couldn't hide the shivering. Probably as long as the monster had been lounging on her deck chair, scared she'd come back in.

The kid had green, somewhat manic eyes, brown hair and a serious faces for what couldn't have been more than 7 or 8 years old in a terrifying situation. I didn't have to ask if he was a half-blood any more than he needed to ask me. The moment my hands were free, I pulled my sword out of my pack letting the glow of celestial bronze fill the cramped quarters. He looked at it with open wonder. I frowned for a moment and then pulled out this journal and carefully, carefully, pulled a page silently from the binding.

In Ancient Greek, I wrote out: _You can use magic?_

It it hadn't been a life or death situation, the look on the kid's face would have been hilarious. I guess it's like that for all of us the first time. The dyslexia that makes letters flip themselves and swim all over the page move into something useful when it's Greek... a translation that finally makes sense. The kid grabs the pen from me and... frowns... frustrated. I got it though. We could all read it... but learning to write it wasn't something most kids got until Camp. I was a special case. My mom taught me it before the English alphabet.

He ended up nodding instead of attempting to write and handed the pen back over to me.

 _Does she know you're here?_ I expected a yes or no answer from that. His face pinched and he gave me a so-so gesture. I gave him the pen.

Haltingly, in English, he writes: _forgot_ in large, unsteady lettering of someone still learning to write and not sure of the shapes.

He passed it back to me and we both froze, holding our breath as the truck stopped, engine still humming in idle. We both let it out as it moved into a turn, rather than cut the engine and a door opening. The boy wraps his arms around himself, shivering either out of cold or fear. Probably both.

 _Stay near the front. I'll get us out._ Which was a big promise, all considered, but I meant it. The boy nodded and scrambled towards the far side of the truck, away from the doors.

I had a lot more options now, but a major liability. I couldn't just be reckless about this one. I had to be smarter about it. I set my sword down on the floor carefully - I couldn't risk it falling off of the kitchenette counter - and grabbed some of the vials, bottles and tins from the spice rack at random. None of them were labelled and I certainly didn't know what they did, but I didn't need anything specific. I just wanted something messy and hopefully terrible.

I grabbed a mug from a hanging rack - Number 1 Mom printed on the side - and started pouring a bit of this, and a pinch of that. I'd like to say I had a moment of inspiration but I really didn't. I didn't know what I was doing so I just blindly went with my gut and hoped that my dad was watching out for me. Lets be real though, it was all luck when the churning contents of the mug started to smoke. I grinned and set it gingerly on the floor as well.

There was a bit of time, so I took the loose journal page and wrote _I need you to distract her when the door opens. Shout. Throw things. But stay out of the way. When I tell you to, run and don't look back. Get a taxi. Go home._ And gave it to the boy. He read it and his face pinched tight and he nodded. He grabbed a pot and started filling it with fudgsicles.

I took the paper back for a moment, I jotted the address of Camp Half-Blood down on it quickly, with a note: _It's a safe place for people like us. They can train you to fight things like that._

He read it and gave a pointedly scathing look at me. So I hadn't exactly made the BEST first impression. Cheeky thing. I frowned back and waved him towards his ice cream arsenal. We all have off days.

We waited. It felt like forever until she finally stopped the truck. The engine turned off and the door of the front cab opened and slammed shut. I could hear her claws scraping the ground as she slowly stalked around to the back door. The doors opened outwardly, so there wasn't a whole lot to hide behind. I had to be fast, instead. One hand full of a steaming cup of awful, the other holding my sword, I crouched to the side of the double doors, concentrating on being inconspicuous, unseen. I couldn't quite vanish, but sometimes, if I was still and quiet, it was hard to spot me.

After that, everything happened at once. When the doors opened, the former queen stabbed a golden spear where I would have been laying with impressive, almost terrifying speed. The kid screamed and started pelting her with fudgsicles and rocket pops. Her surprise at seeing HIM and not me was enough for even her old confused eyes to wonder. She staggered back and opened her mouth to cast whatever magic she was going to.

I threw the whole mug in her maw. Her howl was unearthly, shuddering the truck around us, and smoke belched out of the sides of her snake-like mouth. I didn't hesitate, my sword slapped the speartip wide and I lunged at her, ramming her out of the way of the doors. "GO!"

The kid scrambled out past me as I struggled to keep the thrashing monster down and claws away from my neck. Once he was out, I activated my shoes, flying out and back, finally able to get my sword up.

She shrieked something that me that I couldn't quite make out. Her tongue was a meaty, smoking mess and her throat wasn't much better. "Chil... CHILDen... YOU!" I didn't think she was going to get any spells out. So things were firmly back to where I could handle them.

We fought. Whoever she was, she was well trained, a warrior queen. Or just a monster who had learned to use the heirloom of her reign with deadly force. She still wasn't as good as Thalia was, and we had sparred all the time. But a sword is at a disadvantage with the longer reach of the spear. When I got in close, her claws, long as knives, slashed at me, stealing my advantages in close. I flew around her, needling little strikes as I found holes in her guard, as her rage and watering eyes got in the way of her determination. She was fast and powerful, but I kept out of her range between strikes, frustrating her.

"Smell... HERA!" She croaked, sniffing through the air for me. "My children.. you... you killed."

That magical dry cleaning must have left a scent on me, even days after and I doubted it was a coincidence. I wasn't sure which one of us Hera was trying to kill. Then, I decided, she probably didn't care. Either of us would be fine. For a single, stupid second, I didn't actually WANT to be in the middle of THIS fight and my sympathy made me slow.

She lashed out, grabbing at one of my shoes and slammed me back towards the earth. Her fingers glowed red, and the light seemed to soak into the shoes. I didn't know what she was doing or why, but a sense of dread washed over me and I lashed out wildly, stabbing straight through her chest. Golden blood dripped around me and on me. She turned to dust with a soft, choking cry, dissolving.

"Finally... Finally..." Her voice sounded happy, and her eyes were clear, glittering red. "My children... I see my children..." Then she was gone, leaving me, an empty alleyway and an ice cream truck.

 ***A/N: I know Lamia was used. (What HASN'T Riordan used?) But a lamia driving an ice cream truck was something I couldn't resist as soon as I had the idea. This one I DID know about and worked it as closely together as I could with the Son of Magic. Again, eh.**


	8. I Cop A Magical Bootleg

After all was said and done, I picked myself up, ignoring the bruising in my back and the small headache starting between my ears. I checked out my shoes... They seemed okay? I activated them, and deactivated them, walked back and forth like I was trying on a new pair. They didn't try to kill me or stop working. Maybe I stopped whatever she was trying to do .. or she was just trying to spook me into killing her.

That was a depressing thought.

I shook it out of my head, unlaced and took off my shoes anyway. A little extra paranoia never hurt a demigod. Barefoot, I gave a quick look around the area for the kid who'd helped me out, but he was already gone.

I hoped he made it back to wherever he stayed usually, but I didn't have time to look. The sun was beginning to duck behind the tallest of the skyscrapers.

I didn't have any trouble starting the truck. Just concentrated on the lock of the ignition and gave it a good push to turn over the engine. I wasn't great at driving, but I wasn't horrible either. At worst, people would think I was from LA. Or Florida, maybe. I knew where I was, somehow, don't ask me how. I wasn't going to knock it. And I knew how to get back.

Quickly, I took some inventory. I left the spear.. It was a good weapon, but I've never had a whole lot of skill in it. There were pictures taped everywhere in the cab of the truck... all children, between 6 and 18 in ages... some student ids, some wallet photos... all lovingly displayed as if they were her children and not her snacks. On the front seat was her drivers license ... Lydia Lamia... and the kid's id. Torrington. Nothing that would help me too much, but I kept it, in case I could check up on the boy with an Iris message later. Make sure he made it okay.

Way more useful: There was money in her lock box up front. It was a simple 4 pin lock, I barely blinked at it to get it open.. which meant my next stop was at the convenience store I'd been thinking about stealing from. I mean, I could have picked another, but I felt guilty for what I had almost done. Stupid, right? Can't help it.

So a few hot dogs in my stomach, and a basket full of some bottled water, bags of chips, assorted snacks and some beef jerky later, I had a nicely full backpack, some wheels and a clear shot at the Golden Gate.

The only downside to the road trip was that I couldn't figure out how to turn off the music... and the only other song it seemed to be programmed with was Ring Around the Rosie which didn't sound any more appropriate than Pop Goes the Weasel. So, I had a lot of kids dart out after the truck in the residential areas... Suddenly I was _that truck_ , causing that bitter determination for ice cream sandwiches that drove me. I might have had to have considered it full circle. I might have had to accept the torture of one terrible song on repeat for eternity as my penance. I MIGHT have without the turtle-shell ipod allowing me to cheat a miserable fate.

So I was listening to the Stones, pacing traffic with a monstrous ice cream truck, as I drove into the sunset on the Golden Gate Bridge. The tone of the car changed as the wheels hit the bridge, and the soft, rosy hue of the sunset washed over the dash of the truck. Gradually, almost so slowly I wouldn't have noticed if I wasn't watching, the landscape blurred and changed. The sky rumbled and churned with clouds, a heavy funnel pushing down on a mountain. The traffic was gone, and a mountain rose before me, heavy with mist and an almost a menacing feeling rose up through the air.

All in all, it was pretty cool. If I was going to build a secret base, you couldn't pick a better spot. I mean, really now. Too bad it would only keep mortals out. I kept driving, peering through the heavy mist for any signs of monsters... or my destination.

I could smell the garden of the Hesperides before I could see it. I can't .. really describe what it was like. Over the now ever-present tinge eucalyptus on the air, it was kind of like - okay, so the first time I'd ever had ambrosia, Thalia and I had no idea what we had. We'd found a safe house just north of Atlanta. It was just this run down place we wouldn't have even considered crashing for the night, but the Greek lettering on the door got our attention. There were weapons inside, some canned food, and some baggies of these little squares.

So, it tasted good, right? Like fresh peanut butter and jelly, just the right amount of jelly to peanut butter ratio. Thalia looked at me funny and told me it was totally brownies with walnuts. I told her she was crazy. But it tasted good right? No. it tasted _amazing_! It was kind of intoxicating, and we were kids. We ate too much without a second thought. It was one of the many times when we nearly died with the impressive added bonus of no monsters needed to apply.

The way the garden smelled was a lot like that. Amazing, but something feverish, unknown and dangerous to it. I pulled the ice cream truck off the road, grabbed some supplies, and climbed out and into the edges of the garden. There was no shortage of fruit. Orchards of ripe, perfect fruit hung low on branches over swaths of brilliant, blooming flowers of every size, shape and colors imaginable. It was a mad kaleidoscope of sensation and I got the feeling there was far more to it than my brain was even letting me process.

And _then_ I saw the dragon.

So, I've fought a dragon before. In South Carolina, Thalia and I escaped a pretty old one. It had four heads and was easily as big as a house. We ended up getting its heads to start snapping at each other (Thalia's strikes got it riled up and then we threw some light-up Happy Meal toys between them. We were desperate and it's all I had in my pack. Long story.) It gave us enough of a break to scramble between the enormous feet and talons.

I thought I knew what I was getting into. I could sneak in, nab an apple and sneak out.

I wasn't anywhere near prepared for the sight of Ladon. The bulk of its body was easily 11 or 12 stories high. Like an apartment building. The heads swarmed the branches of the mighty tree with gold apples heavy in the branches, more still were curled up amongst the flowers, or just fanned out somewhere in-between, like a deadly, coppery kooshball of stink and venom. So this was it. The foe that not even Hercules could take. He spotted me and Ladon stepped forward, his great foot shaking the garden, a hundred heads reared back, reptilian rage bearing fangs and hissing.

I felt sick, terror sunk my stomach and made my legs weak. I barely heard the music playing in my turtleshell ipod... but in the lulls between versus, another thread of song worked its way in, luling, soothing.

The Hesperides had begun to sing.

Their approach was pretty eerie. They walked slowly between the twisting, snake like heads of the dragon. They drew hands over scales as if it were not a terrifying monstrosity but a really big, poisonous dog. I could hear little wisps and strands of the harmony around the Nirvana blasting in my ears (which is really jarring, let me tell you.) But slowly, the dragon's heads began to sway with the measured, lazy way the nymphs of the evening walked, and the thrumming pulse of their song. A hundred pairs of eyes began to blink slowly and heads sunk, resting among tiger lilies, roses and a million flowers I didn't know the names of.

Even though I couldn't hear much of it, I could still feel the tune tugging on me, singing gently to me. _Stay and pay us company. Worry no more for mortal concerns, fate or monsters. Lay upon our lap, be fed fruit and drink of the morning dew, and live with us._

I ended up taking a couple of steps from the edge of the garden towards them before I heard Annabeth's voice in my mind "Swear it!" Like she was right there next to me. Maybe she was? Maybe she was dreaming about what I was doing right then, and her cry made it through. I have no idea how it works.

But one thing I did know: I had an oath.

It was almost painful to stop. Like my body knew better than I did, which it might have... but I was also about to get really close to that dragon's range. Slowly, showing empty hands and benign intentions, I dropped to my knees in the thick, wildflower speckled grass and opened my pack.

I spread Doritos, corn chips, Oreo cookies, ice cream bars and little tubs of Ben and Jerry's in front of me.

"Hesperides, beautiful daughters of Atlas." I called out, staring nervously at the dragon. Their song stumbled at my interruption, but the ancient beast didn't stir. "I bring you an offering and ask for a night of sanctuary in your garden."

Surprise and confusion rippled through all four of the ladies. They pulled back, discussing ... and then arguing among themselves. Somehow, the dragon still hadn't stirred, but I still stayed tense and ready to jump back and flee if I needed. This wasn't a straightforward job. Annabeth's notes were pretty clear on that. I couldn't consider Atlas an option... and besides, the idea of holding up the sky seemed a little beyond me. I wasn't anywhere near powerful enough to survive something like that.

One of the nymphs stepped forward, bare feet coming into my line of vision, and a long braid of black hair swung down as she leaned close to catch my attention. She said something but I couldn't read her lips. She gave a little sigh and tapped her ears and pointed at me.

I hesitated, and took the earbuds out of my ears, and settled them at my shoulders. If they decided to sing again... well, I actually didn't know what I'd do. But if I didn't make a show of trust, this plan wasn't going to work at all. The nymph in front of me sat demurely, and took one of the offerings.

"We accept. Tonight you may rest your head here without fear." Two of her sisters joined her without hesitation, picking through the prizes. From their exclamations and wonder, I could guess they'd never had any of the snacks I'd offered, but after a lifetime of really, really healthy foods, some of the better things in life can't hurt, right? They passed snacks around, with exclamations of "Try this one!" "What if we use the chips to scoop out the ice cream?!" I'm not making that up. No accounting for divine taste.

"You may accept them, but I do not." The fourth nymph, leaning against one of Ladon's necks, glowered at me from a distance. Her dark eyes were filled with scorn and suspicion. She reminded me of someone, but I couldn't quite put a finger on it. "You are a thief, are you not, Son of Hermes?"

"You just met me. That's a bit of a heavy accusation." I didn't have to work hard to put some offense in my tone.

"You will wait for us to sleep and then take an apple for yourself," she accused. There was a confidence to her words, as if she'd plucked the plan out of my head.

I fidgeted, considering my options. There weren't many. It's not like I could just pretend I was passing through to the old stronghold of the titans, or you know, bringing Atlas a fruit basket. There wasn't really a point in lying. "That's the job."

She crossed her arms, cold and angry. In the mean time, her sisters sat silent, watching this volley and crunching down on cool ranch chips.

"The job," she repeated, scorn clear. If I pictured a silver circlet on her head, I realized who she reminded me of. It wasn't a great association. "So tell me, thief. What good will your quest do? Seek you penance? Immortality?"

"No... it..." I actually didn't know WHY the quest was given. What could Hermes do with the apples? Shouldn't it be nothing for him to take them himself? Or ... you know, just ask Hera himself? The sinking feeling I'd had seemed to deepen. The nymph seemed to sense it and leaned forward, her expression predatory. Before she could say anything, I continued, answering with a lot of faked confidence and a lie. "It was a quest from the gods. They don't need to explain themselves to heroes."

"Heroes." Hers, for the first time, wasn't the only flat expression. Her sisters also seemed to quiet, appetite gone. I looked between them a little confused. Nothing in the notes had mentioned either Perseus or Hercules hurting any of them in their quests.

"What's the problem?"

"My sisters have offered you hospitality. I would be remiss to ignore it. Eat. Tonight you will be unharmed, but neither shall you approach." She closed the matter, her expression severe. She turned her back to me and walked away.

I made some small talk. They were all surprised when I introduced myself and asked for their names. I guess when you don't have a lot of visitors, there's not a lot of opportunity for pleasantries. Not even the other heroes who had passed through had made introductions. It was a shame because they were all pretty great.

Aigle was the youngest, for as much as that counts when you've hit the multiple millennium mark. She had a round face, and a cute smile. She was the cheerful one of the three, and the first to dive back into the offerings, chatting with her sisters sisters and me. She seemed the most happy to just have someone who hadn't heard all of her jokes and stories thirty million times. She had a LOT of them. I spent more time listening than talking.

Erythia was the tallest. She didn't say a whole lot, and drifted back to pet one of the sleeping heads of Ladon thoughtfully. She did, however, have a terrible weakness for butterscotch and caramel and kept coming back to snag more ice cream. When she did pipe up, it was usually to correct something Aigle was telling me. The longer we talked, the more I was pretty sure Aigle was something of chronically inattentive to facts. And chronological order. Or even what happened, in general. She wasn't going to let the truth get in the way of a really good story.

Hesperethusia... hopefully I'm spelling that right because it was a mouthful and she never repeated it. She had a gentle look to her face and smiled indulgently at both of her sisters, taking only a few nibbles of all of the snacks they offered and praised. But she didn't stay long. We hardly got to talk at all before she got up, and with a worried expression, went to talk quietly with Arethusa... who was the one giving me the nth degree earlier. Arethusa was the eldest, and according to Aigle, she was the only one Ladon allowed to get close to the tree. She watered the roots, fed the dragons by hand and filed his nails. All that good stuff.

Turns out, the dragon wasn't there to be a pet to the Hesperides... though I guess he got used to them enough that he might as well be. Hera actually hired them to guard the tree, though Hera never bothered with taking them. (Aigle said the only goddess to ever stop and get one was Eris and it was a big mess when it happened. Erythia said Hera had gotten a few, actually, Aigle didn't remember because Hera didn't stop to talk, and Eris did.) She hired Ladon to keep the Hesperides from eating the apples, themselves, as well as keep away any cheeky heroes like me.

They weren't bad company, really. Given that I was here to steal what they were supposed to guard, it was kind of surprising. They either were really sure I was going to die in the attempt or was going to give up and go home. Or maybe, they were just really lonely. So, I spent the early parts of the evening telling them about my travels. What cities were like now, the concept of football, who Aphrodite is with this week, what technology was and how it worked.

Which lead me introducing the Hesperides to the Beatles. Even Arethusa and ... I'm just going to go with Hespere... came near for that. I queued up some of the greatest hits and classics on my ipod and set it to speaker mode. Two little turtle shell speakers unfolded from the earbuds much to my surprise and the nymphs delight. By the second chorus, they were lending an unearthly counterpoint to Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. It made me really wish I could get a bootleg.

And that thought... _that thought_ brought the whole plan together. While they listened and sang, I looked at the massive form of the dragon, slumbering peacefully. The tree was no small affair either. At the highest, the heads of the dragon just barely got above the crown of the tree. And heavy, golden apples hung from almost every bough in abundance. I had thought about confusing the heads.. but there were simply too many to have anything that could distract ALL of them at once. I certainly hadn't stopped by a McHale's anyway.

But a dragon like that, had to be used to people attacking from below. Far below. Rushing between its feet and train-like tail. I wondered if it's ever faced someone coming in from above. The question was just... did I still trust the shoes in my pack?

Now, don't get me wrong, I offered to do this the civilized way. I offered to trade them my ipod for one of the apples. The younger sisters looked sorely tempted, but the eldest vetoed it harshly. "You would invite the wrath of Hera on yourself and seek to share it with us. We will not take your burden."

That definitely put a damper on all of their moods. I get the feeling they'd had to deal with the goddess' less-than-kind fits. I tried to ask what she meant... I mean, if I'm going to be up against THAT as well, I should get some warning. But Arethusa wasn't hearing any of it.

She called bedtime, and raised her voice to sing. The first strains were wordless, haunting and ebbed and flowed in a way no human voice could match. Her sisters stood up and lent their voices to the melody. The harmony tugged at me and sleep started creeping over my mind like I wanted nothing else in the world. Realizing what was happening I fumbled desperately with my ipod.

Arethusa smiled mockingly as I slumped over well before getting the earbuds back in my ears. That was fine.

She never noticed me hitting the record button at all.


	9. I'm Betrayed by Classic Rock

The dream I had that night was not nearly as sweet as the music that set me to sleep. It was an old nightmare and one I'd had a hundred times before. The dream started where it always did: the argument outside of the cyclops lair. It wasn't either of our finest moments, Thalia's or mine. The only saving grace was that we managed not to have it in front of Annabeth. Sending her with Grover up ahead did us a couple of things. For one, we could hold the rear guard without risking her, for another, we had a couple of moments of privacy and at that moment, most importantly, a few moments of respite from the satyr's bleating apologies.

The discussion was literally on the run. The moment that we had stepped, blinking, into the afternoon sun, we heard the yowl of yet another hellhound and the victorious, eager shriek of one of the Kindly Ones. Thalia had gotten a haunted, weary look and gave the only order we'd had all week. "Go!"

We'd lost the lead we'd had using the last of the explosive powder I'd found in the forces, and Thalia managing to damage the wing of one of the Kindly Ones. The breathing room was gone, and we were back to them literally right behind us. The only good part was that what WAS right behind us were scouts and chasers. They were easy to handle when they got close.

"Why didn't you say it was the wrong way?" Thalia glared at me as we dodged between startled Brooklyn pedestrians.

"What?"

"You can tell that sort of thing. I've noticed, you know." I ducked behind a busker and kicked a coffee shop's chalkboard sign into the face of a demon dog that got too close. It yelped and it, and the three with it, gave us a bit more room. "Did you want to fight THAT too?"

"I have no idea where we're going, Thalia. That's _YOUR_ guide. I haven't had _anything_ but a bad feeling since we started." I was angry. I was hurt. I wasn't making my case. I didn't keep the bitterness out of my voice. My father had promised a guide, but the one that came wasn't there for me. He had instructions to abandon me if I slowed Thalia down. It didn't matter if Thalia wasn't going to let Annabeth and I be abandoned, the fact of the matter was that it was the second hard blow in as many weeks. "Maybe your father should send you a guide that... Oh, I don't know... DOESN'T walk us into monster lairs for once."

I knew as soon as I said it, it was the wrong thing. Hurt flashed across her face and with Thalia, anger always follows. Her blue eyes narrowed on me.

"Look. I don't like this situation any more than you do," she growled. Her spear lashed out and sliced through a goblin-like beast that hung from one of the brick storefront eaves. A few weeks ago, I'd have wondered at how casual we'd started to become at fighting unspeakable horrors. Or maybe just, how numb we were. "But what about the hippogriff? Or the metal birds?"

I scowled, my ears burning."I just-"

"You JUST walked right into danger we could have avoided. You. No wrong directions. No mix ups."

"It wasn't like THIS!" I yelled. My blade struck through a street lamp, taking it down behind us in a flare of sparks and bright flashes. I could hear motorists cursing and pedestrians yelling. Who knows what they actually saw happening, but I couldn't care enough. I did hear a yelp and scrambling of the hellhouses that had been gaining again and that was enough.

"Orthrus was," she spat.

It was. Two days ago, the two-headed dog came, hot on Grover's hooves, tearing through trees to get to us. It was the first indication that what was coming after us wasn't just the run of the mill monsters we'd always fought. Something HUGE was after us. Something was determined to kill us. I stood my ground against it. If the Huntresses hadn't been in the area, all three of us would have died. None of us could have handled the beast I'd challenged. The tear I'd gotten in my side still pulled painfully and bleed through the bandages on occasion, the ambrosia we had left hadn't been enough to heal it totally.

Shame and anger twisted in my stomach and stung my eyes.

"You wouldn't understand!" I put on speed. I was always faster than the others when I tried. Thalia cursed and tried to match me, but I quickly put a gap between us, intent on catching up with the goat boy carrying a sleeping Annabeth.

"Then TALK to me, Luke!"

I could hear the frustration in her voice, the pleading. I listened to my pride instead and ignored her.

That was our last conversation.

The dream changed, turning to show the early evening of that same day. It had been a destroyed bus, one crumpled taxicab and two totaled "borrowed" cars later. We were sprinting through a forest in Long Island. Grover promised we were close now and there were thirty, maybe 40 hellhounds behind us, baying, trying to drive us towards bigger, nastier monsters, fresh out of Tartarus just for us.

Grover, miserably, had explained it to us. Thalia shouldn't have been born. Zeus, Hades and Poseidon had all vowed on the Styx that they would never sire another half-blooded child. In sending Grover, he'd claimed her, and admitted to his broken vow. And now all of Hades' fury was behind us.

Annabeth ran between Thalia and I, holding my hand, while Grover, his fake feet somewhere in a creek miles behind us, raced with a speed I doubt even I could match. He bounded in all directions, trying to find a clear path to the lights we could see in the distance.

Suddenly, Thalia stopped, thrusting her spear into the ground. She planted her feet and squared her shoulders. I staggered to a stop and looked back, questioning. She met my eyes and the sky above us rumbled. "Grover! KEEP GOING!" She shouted.

"Thalia!" Grover bleated. He ducked a swipe from one of the Furys, eyes white around all of the edges. He didn't want to stay, but didn't want to leave her either. "We're close!"

"I know! Take them to the camp! I'll follow."

I saw it in her face, what she was going to do. I knew, immediately, what she was asking me to do. Get Annabeth to safety. She'd buy us time. But it would be time for the rest of the army to surround her.

And this is where the dream goes right off the rails. When it actually happened back then, this is where she shoves me... and I leave pulling Annabeth along, carrying her when she falls. Ignoring her screams that we can't leave Thalia. Instead, in this dream, she has a moment of weakness. She hesitated and I stayed. She didn't have time to argue. I attacked in the wake of her lightning strike, working with speed I didn't even know I had to keep us from being flanked. Thalia staggered in exhaustion, but instead of that opening allowing fangs to reach her side, Annabeth's dagger stabbed the creature in the face.

We held the hill. Bloody, broken and exhausted. We were dizzy with blood loss and disoriented. But alive, all three of, when the conch shell bellowed out through the night and reinforcements FINALLY poured through the trees.

And that's when I usually wake up, stare at my ceiling for a while and miserably question if it was fate or just a bad choice I'd made. This time, instead, I felt heat and power at my back, drawing me to turn away from the scene, and stare into the three faces of a goddess.

"You dream often of the last time you stood upon the crossroads." Hecate's faces were impassive, and more than a little terrifying in the light of the torches she held.

"Lady Hecate." I didn't bow. Not after Hera. But my tone was respectful and very, very wary.

"That was not your time. She picked her road, and yours." The expression on the middle face, for a moment, is almost sympathetic. I opened my mouth to argue, but a cold chill and the smell of ozone made me hesitate before interrupting the goddess. She continued, "The first of your own choices will begin when you awaken."

"You're ... here to warn me?" I hazarded.

"You did a service to me yesterday. My daughter... I cannot give her rest or reprieve from Tartarus, but I've taken her eyes from her, and for now, her madness." Her voice held regret, but I wasn't sure if that actually sounded ... better. "It's the most that I can do, with Hera's wrath still so strong."

"If she's done something THAT wrong, why don't you fight her?" I couldn't help it. "She was your child, right?"

Hecate's eyes narrowed, and one of her faces smiled, while the others pinched into anger and caution. "Why, indeed." Instead of answering, she walked into the mist that surrounded us, her torches illuminating a fork in the road. "You've also saved my son. So I will gift you one boon."

"And that is..?"

"I will show you the known path. At this crossroads, one has been foretold. The spirit of Delphi has seen it and spoke it through many mouths." Hecate regarded me, all three expressions unreadable. "Do you wish to see?"

I'd asked for this very thing more than once in the last month. I've begged and gotten nothing but warnings it was better not to know. Here it was offered freely. I didn't hesitate. "Yes!"

"Very well."

She raised one of her torches, illuminating the left hand road. What I saw was only in flashes. Like jumping frames of an old fashioned movie about to come off the reel. I saw myself pluck a pair of apples from the top of the tree. I saw the dragon's heads surround me... and I saw myself take a bite of one of the golden fruit.

I saw myself, glowing white with power and unreal health, move from head to head, casually striking through scales like they were butter. Dodging with such speed that the dragon was a turtle beside me.

I saw Hera standing in battle armor, glowing. She unleashed her true form, her power setting her own tree... the garden, the dragon, the nymphs aflame. I ran. I could hear the Hesperides scream and the sky tremble with the agony and grief of their father.

I saw flashes of my life... quests that somehow I knew were to atone for my mistake, to sooth Hera's enmity, to stop a war. I saw dangers untold, I saw people beside me, I saw love, I saw loss, I saw laughter, and I saw pain.

I saw myself alone at the end of it, cast down at the very end. I was somewhere horrible, with poison, burning air, pestilent craters birthing monsters from its puss, rivers of despair... and I saw myself collapse, cursing the gods.

And I felt, more than saw, a powerful evil. Something more awful than my mind was prepared to handle. I saw it sink into that me, I saw myself give in. It had waited for me. It told me I was perfect, my immortal body a suitable vessel for its return.

I saw my eyes open, golden.

And that me... That person wearing my face, looked at _me,_ smiled and reached out. I felt something choking me, dragging me in, trying to get in and-

The only reason that I didn't scream when I woke up was the hand that covered my mouth.

Arethusa leaned over me, her dark eyes on me, expression guarded. "Hush. And wake fully." It took a couple seconds before I nodded at her, slightly and she removed her hand. "Ladon still sleeps. See to it that you leave before he wakes. Our debt of hospitality is paid."

"Unless you want to stay here!" Aigle piped up, sounding hopeful. "You can sleep on my lap."

"No one stays and talks anymore." Hespere added. "We'd see your needs attended to."

"Thanks..." Erythia said quietly, looking away. "For staying a while."

"Go." Arethusa said. "Your quest is impossible. Leave while you can."

I sat there, not answering the Hesperides. I could feel their eyes on me, but I felt numb, a little terrified still.

"I can't abandon my quest," I answered, finally. I'd seen the left hand path. The right was still a mystery. It had possibilities. If I didn't eat the fruit, I wouldn't be immortal. I would be of no use to the creature in Tartarus. I could change my fate. I could DO this.

"Why not?" Arethusa's anger came like a whip, voice crackling with power. The nymph rose, her face dark. "Can you not think of ANYTHING more worthy to be doing than this empty quest?"

I flinched at her words, my hands curling into fists. I could picture nothing but the single pine tree on the hill... The quest I really wanted.

"There is, isn't there?" she pursued. "Be a hero! Not an errand boy!"

"I HAVE to finish this or I'll never get the chance!" The dragon twitched, the ripple moving like a small earthquake when I shouted back at her. "We don't have to fight. You can get me one! Ladon wont bother you... I'll bring you back with me. All of you. I'm sure camp will welcome you..."

"We can't leave." Aigle said. She was not the one I expected to raise her voice in objection. "This is our fate."

"Then fight it!" I answered, getting to my feet. "If the gods are doing such terrible things, why DON'T we fight them? Why don't we show them it's wrong? We can find a way. Who says we need to bow to fate?"

Fear spread across the faces of all of the nymphs as they glances up towards the sky, and followed it back to the burden their father bore.

"... We can't. Our fate could be far more cruel than this." This time Hespere. Especially after what I'd just seen of my fate... even what I'd seen on this quest. I couldn't just leave it as fate. I couldn't leave it to the cruelty of the gods. I couldn't go home and just pretend that all of this is okay.

"Fine. I'll take them myself."

Arethusa's face was impassive, almost blank. But her words were damning. "Ladon. Wake."

By everyone's expressions, I don't think anyone expected my reaction to be to run away. But when you've got like, 30 tons of angry dragon charging at you, it's a _really_ good idea. He didn't chase me far, refusing to leave the tree unguarded... which destroyed one of the plans Annabeth had tenuously outlined. Which left the last... the one I'd come up with yesterday.

I got back into the ice cream truck, and with a tug of power at the lock, turned it back on. I plugged in the ipod and fumbled with the controls for a few moments. When I had everything the way I wanted it, I pulled the earbuds free of the ipod and shoved them in my ears, hoping they'd block a little sound and be better than nothing at all.

I took a deep breath, put my shoes back on and laced them up, and turned on the speakers. Instead of the tune of Pop Goes the Weasel, the voice of the Hesperides rang out from the large speakers on top of the ice cream truck, loud enough to set a stadium to sleep.

I dashed out of the truck, earbud cords flapping behind me, and trying not to listen to the voices I'd set up to play, and tore past the dumbfounded faces of the nymphs. I gave them a little wave, a wink, and raced towards the drowsy dragon.

"LADON! LADON WAKE!"

"Maia!" I shouted. The dragon was sluggish, trying to decide whether to sleep or heed the nymphs' warnings of danger. I kicked myself up high into the air, racing towards the crown of the tree.

Whatever magic was in the recording, was not as strong as the voices of the nymphs themselves. Even confused, the dragon showed no real signs of sleeping. Without much coordination, it staggered after me, dozens of heads snapping in the air. It clearly wasn't used to handling something from above as well as it does the ground, as several heads bit AT each other or collided in attempts to get to me.

And me? I was on fire. I leapt from neck to neck, racing along coppery scales and dodged fangs and claws as they groggily swiped at me. I saw the opening I was looking for, two apples, up near the crown of the tree, hanging from the same stem, like cherries do in pictures. I jumped, pouring all of the power I could into the shoes, forcing speed and height in one sickening, exciting rush.

My fingertips touched the skin of the fruit, and I felt the heady magic in the apples pouring through me. I knew if I ate one, everything would be okay. What wouldn't? Something so sweet, so perfect, so juicy. It wasn't the food of the gods. It was food that MADE gods. It could make _me_ into a god. A perfect hero, timeless, ageless and powerful.

And that's the exact moment that everything all fell apart. More specifically, it was the exact moment that the recording of the song of the Hesperides ended and Eric Clapton started playing. Instantly, all hundred heads were awake and enraged. They rose around me, even as I fell...

At the same time, I could see the Hesperides wail, fear and grief on their faces. It was a perfect, terrible echo of the dream I'd had. The burned garden and ruined tree, the bodies of the nymphs strewn around it, dissolving under Hera's fury.

... Distracted, I never clenched my grip on the fruit and my fingers simply slid down.

There was a flash in the corner of my eye and pain like I've never experienced before. The sort that burns through your nerves and empties out your mind in a flood of color and sound. Fire ripped across my face, then my shoulders and back as I was struck, and then struck again on the way down.

I hit the ground hard, almost biting my tongue straight though. I rolled, and sliced blindly as the world heaved and shuddered around me, dizziness giving everything a faint golden edge. I heard the dragon bellow in pain and rage, but it felt like it was a hundred miles away. Almost like I was asleep, zombie like, I picked up the talon I'd sliced through... almost as big as I was, and propped it up just before the giant serpent's foot slammed down on me. It howled as its own claw pierced the soft flesh of its toes... and I remember staring at the grass, thinking about how beautiful it was when the shadow of the beast moved away from it, bringing it into a vivid, emerald hue.

I remember thinking that I didn't really want to die... but if I had to, this wasn't a bad last sight. It was in that dazed, sliding off train of thought when I heard the Hesperides begin to sing again, Arethusa's voice leading the other three. The poison swallowed even that, and I collapsed.


	10. The Aftermath

I wasn't coherent enough, when I woke up, to be surprised that I DID wake up. I could only pry one eye open, just barely, and what I could see was Aigle solemnly pressing a strange mess of squished flowers and berries on the other side of my face.

"'urts..." I managed.

She looked at me with sympathy. "You are awake."

I wanted to go back to sleep. I wanted to just pass out and never feel the fire eating at me again. She pinched me when my eyes started drifting closed, not unkindly, but jarred me enough to keep me aware.

I looked around... Arethusa was tending to the dragon's lame paw. The other two were picking flowers, looking between the two of us uncertainly.

"This will not cure you." Aigle said, apologetically. "Arethusa said... if you get back to your home, the horse man can make an antidote with this." She pulled my hand out and pressed a semicircle into it. It wasn't any bigger than a gas station bathroom key fob... But instantly I knew what it was when I managed to focus in on it: the tip of Ladon's claw, still glistening with the poison in my veins right now.

"Chiron..."

"Mm. Him." The nymph looked down at me, her fingers brushing through my hair. My head, I released, had to be settled on her lap. Another time, I might have been embarrassed. "You... had it. Why didn't you take it?"

I didn't answer right away. To be honest, it took me a few moments just to work out what she was asking. I wasn't at my best right then.

"Heart wasn't in it," is what I tried to say. I'm not really sure if I managed more than a mumble. But Aigle's eyes misted up and she waved to her sisters to come near.

"We'll change your bandages... You'll have a day with this poultice. You'll need to get back before then."

I don't really think I stayed conscious through it, but they were kind enough not to wake me until my face, chest and back had been bound again. They helped me to my feet, and gave me a fresh cut sapling to keep my balance.

And I left.. not really understanding where I was going or how, just that I had to keep moving or I would die.

... And so here's the part where I can never let this journal be read by anyone else ever. You see, there's another way into and out of camp that I think only I know about. I found it a few months ago, and have practiced wandering around a little bit before the quest came down. There's an entrance to the Labyrinth in the woods. Just in case, I'm not going to write down exactly where it is, but it does exist. If you know just where to go and how to push ... it just opens up.

I could never figure out how to go anywhere I wanted to. The Labyrinth seemed to have a mind of its own and confounding progress was on the top of its agenda... but I could always ALWAYS get home. It never stopped me from going back.

I don't know how I found the glowing delta on the side of the mountain face, or even remember exactly where it was. Maybe my father actually was looking out for me, and guided me the right way. Maybe all of the bad luck of this quest finally panned out to some blind, dumb luck. But I made it in.

I don't ... really remember a lot of the trip. Things sort of faded in and out, over a numb litany in my mind ... just keep walking. Just keep walking. Just keep walking.

I remember flashes that I'm not sure if they happened or if they were hallucinations. I remember heavy limestone blocks giving away to a beautiful cavern of ice and crystal. I remember striking a strange serpent legged woman in a steel corridor. She hissed something at me and fled.

I remember the walls growing teeth, a nose pushing out of the bricks and the mouth opening wide, trying to swallow me. I staggered away, listening to the mouth slam open and closed over and over again behind me.

But worst of all... I remember a hole in the ground. No, let me try that again. I remember a hallway opening up into a malevolent, bottomless pit. It stretched from wall to wall, and seemed to go down far, far beyond anything my eyes could make out. I stumbled back away from it when I felt my shoes activate, turning the bright red of the Lamia's spell.

They pulled me.. and I frankly had no strength. I called out, I screamed as I was dragged to the hole, but they wouldn't deactivate no matter what I did. Instead.. the air went cold... and dark? Everything seemed to stop and I felt a voice, a presence far more powerful than I had even standing in the audience of the gods themselves.

"It's not time yet."

I didn't really know what it did, and I didn't really process what it was talking about. I just knew that my shoes had frozen. I hurriedly unlaced them and shoved them into my backpack. Adrenaline had given me just enough speed and clarity. Whatever it was that spoke to me laughed.

"Remember, hero. Who actually answers your prayers when you really need them."

And it was gone. The hole. The voice. Anything I recognized. I was in another part of the Labyrinth. I really don't know if that happened at all.

There was also something about a dancing juggling poodle saying something about boxing glove arrows. I'm pretty sure that one was a hallucination. I lost my walking stick somewhere in there, and I used the walls to hold me up as my vision began to fade, and the pain became a creeping, cold numbness.

I wish I had some explanation or even a chronology. But all I know is that I was nearly totally blind by the time I could smell the forest and a distant fire. I could hear voices, the shouts and excitement I could only associate with Capture the Flag. I could feel the sun on my face. And I promptly passed out.

I don't actually know who found me, but Annabeth told me later that Chiron had worked over my sorry self for five days straight. I was nearly lost more than once, and it was, according to the healers in Apollo, a miracle I kept the vision in both of my eyes. They couldn't do anything about the scar, though. The poison had resisted nectar as much as the healer's salves. Apparently, I honestly would have died if Chiron hadn't found Ladon's claw in my pack. Which was good, because I don't remember putting it in there. Aigle was probably the one who saved me. Again.

As it was, I woke to Annabeth sitting in a chair right next to my bed, trying valiantly not to doze. By the deep lines under her eyes I knew she'd been trying not to doze for far longer than she probably should have.

"Hey." I croaked, all suave and smooth like that.

She nearly fell out of the chair. "Luke...? LUKE! CHIRON!" She scrambled up and called for the old centaur. "Chiron! Luke's awake!"

Immediately, there was a crowd around me in the tent. There were more people and more questions than my admittedly still fuzzy brain was going to keep up with. It was a relief when Chiron wheeled into the hall.

I'm pretty sure he took control of things, the way he usually does. Because I fell right back to sleep.

When I woke up again, Annabeth had curled up on the bed next to me. I don't know if she had pulled my arm over her or if I did it myself in my sleep... but it was warm and comfortable and I didn't really feel like moving. Whatever happened, I still had her, my little sis.

I reached out and ran my hand over her hair, and I saw her eyes drift open and a small smile cross her face. She snuggled closer.

Chiron quietly cleared his throat, drawing my attention up towards him.

"How are you feeling?"

"I feel like I swallowed a gallon of lava." I squinted at the ceiling. I couldn't see out of one eye at all, the bandaging was too tight. "During a liquid nitrogen bath."

"Recovering well, then." I looked at him. I couldn't tell if it was a joke or not, and his face gave nothing away.

"I didn't get it. I failed."

"I know." That sat heavy between us. What was I supposed to do in a situation like this? Apologize? Ask for another chance? Make excuses?

I didn't really want to do any of those.

"So. What happens now?"

"Life goes on." Chiron said, not unkindly. There was something to his set of expression that ... kind of grated at me, but I couldn't exactly put my finger on it. He made himself busy checking on my dressings. "Recover, I expect you'll be on your feet in a month or so. Train. Perhaps someday the gods will seek your service again."

"Someday..." I couldn't help a laugh at that. It wasn't a good kind of laugh.

"Luke... There's something I want to ask you. I understand you are tired and you've been through quite the ordeal, but this is important." I squinted at him until his face came back into focus and made a 'go ahead' gesture. "How DID you get back here?"

You know, I don't know where the thought came from... but at that moment I just didn't feel like I _should_ tell him about the passage. Like if I did, I'd lose something important. I went with it. "I don't remember," I lied.

Chiron looked at me for a long moment, before pushing back away from my bedside. "Perhaps that is for the best. Rest. This has been all levels of a disasters." He sighed, and left.

"Are you really okay?" Annabeth asked, quietly.

"Dunno." I answered. It was the most honest answer I had.

She frowned and nodded, accepting it. She understood. She settled back down and looked up at me, grey eyes hungry. "What was it like? Out _there._ "

I told her. I told her about the eagles and about the hotel nowhere. I told her about the Lamia and the kid. I told her about the bridge, and what it looked like. I lied and told her I looked at all thirty million rivets for her. She giggled and correct me. There is, apparently, only 1.2 million rivets, though she appreciated the effort. I told her about the big buildings and the sky at sunset. I told her about the garden and the dragon. I left things out, sure, I didn't need to tell her about Hera or Hecate or that other thing in the Labyrinth... but I talked until she fell asleep... and followed soon after, feeling a little bit lighter.

The next day, Annabeth returned, distraught. Chiron had declared that with the failure of this quest, he would not be accepting or giving any more out except in the direst of circumstances. She was panicked. I was panicked. No more quests would mean kids like us couldn't leave again. No one. Even the others, who had homes, who only stayed to train during the summer couldn't find any chance of acknowledgement from their parents... I tried to get up, but the world was still too unsteady and my legs gave before I'd even gotten upright at all.

She made me stay down, checked my wounds and then ran back out, declaring that it HAD to be a mistake and that she'd get to the bottom of it.

There was no mistake. I didn't get any visitors but a few awkward visits from cabinmates and Annabeth. She was sullen now, her thoughts inward. She would mumble to herself now and then, but for the most part, the next week... I recovered by myself. It gave me a lot of time to write.

When I was able to get up and walk around... it was worse. I saw disappointment on the faces of my cabinmates. They didn't look directly at me, as if I was something shameful. I saw hatred on the faces of others; I had ruined things for them. But the hardest was the pity. "Poor thing." They said. "You never had a chance. A fool's errand, to throw you to a task of Hercules."

I wanted to scream at them that I almost had it. That I had decided not to. That there were reasons for it... but I didn't. I bit my lip. I looked away... and I learned started to smile instead, enjoying how it threw them off. Enjoying the looks of relief I got, that ol' Luke was back to normal.

It's... really hard not to hate every one of them. Even Annabeth, who spent more time badgering Chiron about a quest than she even did her studies, anymore. It's hard not to hate myself... why I didn't pick the fruit? Why didn't I just follow my fate and damn all the consequences? Be a hero like I'd always wanted to do.

I guess I don't have any answers, and my dreams have been getting worse every night. Every night, they replay everything over again, except uglier, crueler. If I hadn't already written down what happened, I'd have a hard time keeping straight what was my memories and what was the dream anymore. Chiron says it's probably an after affect of the poison but... it's hard to want to sleep or stay awake these days.

Anyways. I'm done writing. I know Hal said writing about it would help, but I'm getting angrier and angrier every time I try. So I'm gonna give it a break and get my head on straight. I'm almost out of space anyway.


	11. The Last Page

So. Here it is: The last page.

Maybe it didn't feel right finishing it off after that mess a couple of years ago, but here I am now. It works out anyway, because this is going to be my last entry.

It's the winter solstice, and it had taken a bit of organizing to get us the leave to be in attendance of the Olympian council. Stupidly, I was kinda hopeful. This is one of the few times demigods can get any sort of an audience with the gods without it breaking any rules or finishing a big quest.

And hey, it's going pretty swell for the others. Annabeth looks like she's about to burst from pride, talking to her mom directly for the first time. Clarisse ... man, you know, I can't tell if she's mad or excited. But I really can't tell if Ares is or not either. But it's something, isn't it?

I'm over here, writing because my dear, _dear_ father has spent the whole time on his cell phone deliberately avoiding my eyes. Would it kill him to just say hello? Pretend I exist as more than an embarrassment or a threat? Does he know about the nightmares and is scared I'll actually ask him for help?

For the first time, it all makes sense. I know what he meant at mother's house, what my dreams mean, what my fate means, and the guilt in his expression. He's chosen to hide behind rules that no other god honors so he doesn't have to say he's decided my fate is more important than I am.

I wasn't going to do it. I told HIM I wasn't going to do it. But you know what? Why not? Why the fuck should I fight fate? Lord Kronos is right. The Great Prophecy exists because it's bad for the gods, but is it actually any loss to the world if they were wiped out? It'll be pathetically easy. These idiots wont even know what hit them.

This is it. Luke Castellan, signing off.

I'll be back soon, Olympus. Just you wait.

 ***A/N: And that's it! DONE! I hope you've enjoyed! It was fun to write.**


End file.
